Cages
by InAHeartbeat23
Summary: Rick and his group are surrounded by Negan and his Saviors. As Negan is choosing who should meet Lucille first, two people catch his interest: Daryl and Everly. He takes them both back as hostages, determined to do whatever he can to break them in and make them his, but Negan soon learns that he took much more than he bargained for. **Now comes with romantic relationships! Daryl/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: This is not a romance. There's been confusion among a few former readers, so before you favorite or follow I just wanted you to be aware. Enjoy if you're still interested! If not, happy reading elsewhere! :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

"Gonna need you on your knees," Simon commanded nonchalantly, his eyes watchful and dark. The gravel crunched beneath our feet as we slid down to our knees; the rocks sharp and piercing despite the jeans I wore. Maggie's hand gripped mine tightly, our sweat mingling together and our grip slippery. I squeezed her hand as she closed her eyes and grunted in a bout of pain.

"It's okay. Just breathe," I whispered to her. Her breath formed a cloud around her head as she gasped, shivering. The darkness was claiming, scattered only by the many headlights in the clearing. The RV was straight ahead, parked parallel to us. It was obvious now that we had been set up and we had fallen right into their trap.

"Dwight!" Simon barked.

"Yeah?" A man with shoulder-length blonde hair stepped into the clearing. The left side of his face was scarred and he carried Daryl's crossbow.

"Chop, chop."

Dwight stepped up to the rear of a black van and opened the doors, "Come on," he urged. "You got people to meet!"

A couple of Saviors reached into the van and pulled out Daryl, Michonne, Rosita and Glenn. Dwight had a hold of Glenn and threw him to the ground, the gravel scattering outwards as he landed. Glenn looked up and spotted Maggie beside me and his eyes widened, "Maggie?"

Dwight grabbed him again and pushed him down hard, "On your knees!"

Glenn struggled against him as Maggie began to cry next to me, her hand gripping mine tightly.

"Be brave," I whispered to her, trying to take my own advice. The others had been forced down on their knees next to us. We formed an awkward line, facing the RV. I could only assume that something sinister waited for us in that RV and we were going to find out what it was very soon. I looked around and found Rick, shaking and his eyes fearful. We were surrounded 10 to 1. There was no way for us to get out of this.

" _What if it's the last day on Earth for you? For someone you love? What if that's true..? Maybe you should be extra nice to those people in that RV. 'Cause you never know"- his fingers snapped- "just like that. Be kind to each other. Like you said, like it was your last day on Earth."_ Simon's earlier quips to Rick echoed threateningly in my head. My vision began to blur slightly and everything seemed to be moving slowly. My eyes roved around back in front of me and I breathed deeply, feeling the cold air stinging my lungs. _Breathe_. I squeezed my eyes shut. _Breathe._

"Alright!" Simon beamed. "We got a full boat! Let's meet the man."

Simon walked up to the RV door and knocked twice, his face calm and smug. He strutted away, positioning himself behind us as the door began to open. We all looked on as terror thrummed between us. We knew exactly who we were about to meet and it had been a long, unwanted time coming. The door swung open with a creak and heavy foot-steps resounded from the inside as he made his way down. Darkness filled the RV, but as he stepped onto the gravel, light slowly illuminated his face.

"Pissin' our pants yet?" His drawl was southern and deep. He was smiling, so charmingly, it was hard to believe it was because of our fear. It wasn't so dark to make out what he carried over his left shoulder and the closer he stepped towards us the more animated it became. So did his smile.

"Oh, boy, do I have a feeling we're gettin' close," he walked in front of our group, eyeing every single one of us. His smile never faltered as he took in our state; scared, cold, vulnerable. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying what he saw.

"Yep. Gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Which one of you pricks is the leader?" His eyes dashed over every one of us.

"It's this one," Simon answered and pointed at Rick. "He's the guy."

The man turned and positioned himself in front of Rick, looking down at him bemusedly and sighed. He took a few steps toward him, his bat still casually draped across his left shoulder. In the light, it was clearly illuminated now. Normally, a wooden bat wouldn't send shivers of terror through someone's gut, but what was wrapped around its head had my insides spasming.

"Hi," he smiled wolfishly at Rick. "You're Rick, right? I'm Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people. Not cool," the smile that graced Negan's face had faltered significantly as he spoke to Rick. Now a look of annoyance overtook it. "Not fucking cool. You have no idea how not fucking cool that shit is, but I think you're gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah.

"You are so gonna regret crossin' me in a few minutes," the smile slowly came back. "Yes, you are. You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what, you don't mess with the new world order. The new world order is this and it's really, very simple, so even if you're stupid, which you very well may be, you can understand it… You ready? Here it goes, pay attention."

Negan brought the bat down to his side, the barbed wire glinting dully in the light as he switched it to his gloved, right hand. He brought it up under Rick's face, taunting him with it and smiled slowly again. He bent slightly down to look at him more closely.

"Give me your shit or I will kill you," Negan watched for Rick's reaction before straightening back up. He silently chuckled as began to walk in front of the group, waving his bat up and down, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. "Today was career day. We invested a lot, so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That's your job! Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow. But swallow it you most certainly motherfucking will!"

Negan looked at Rick as he spoke most of these words, the smile coming and going as it pleased. He stopped in front of Rick again and fixed him with a threatening stare, the smile replaced by that look of annoyance again.

"You rule the roost. You…built something. You thought you were safe. I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged; more pegged if you don't do what I want and what I want is half your shit. And if that's too much, you can make, find or steal more, and it'll even out sooner or later," Negan began stepping around in front of us again, throwing his hands and bat up as he spoke. He spread his arm out, "This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So someone knocks on your door, you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us and we will knock it down!" Negan jabbed his barbed wire bat in Rick's face at his last words, a look of hatred finally filling his eyes and a scowl turning his mouth down.

"You understand?" He asked Rick. I chanced a look at Rick and saw a man I didn't recognized. He looked utterly petrified, tremoring and pale. My heart pounded painfully in my ears. Negan put his left hand to his ear and bent down to Rick, "What? No answer?"

Negan wiped his mouth, grinning. He took a few steps back and asked, "You really didn't think you would get through this without getting punished, now did you? I don't want to kill you people. Just wanna make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You can't do that if you're dead, now can you? I'm not growing a garden… But you killed my people; a whole damn lot of them. More than I'm comfortable with. And for that, for that you're gonna pay," he looked around at all of us. "So now, I'm gonna beat the fucking fuckedy fuck out of one of you."

He twirled his bat around. My hand was going numb where Maggie was clenching it too tightly. I wasn't sure if I was even holding her hand back at this point. I begin to feel light-headed and my chest felt tight. Each breath was agony as Negan began his trek past all of us.

"This," he began, "this is Lucille. And she is awesome. All this, all this is just a weak pick-out of which one of you gets the honor," he stopped in front of Abraham. Abraham straightened up and looked Negan square in the eye. I silently cursed and blessed the man for his brazenness. The feeling of imminent danger was clutching my guts and I wanted nothing more than for Abraham to back down, but Negan smiled again and wiped his mouth.

"Ugh, I gotta shave this shit," and he looked away, walking the opposite way. I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding, but the fear came back almost instantly. He stopped in front of Carl and squatted down in front of him. "You got one of our guns. Damn. You got a lot of our guns," Negan took a small hand gun laying on the ground in front him. "Shit kid, lighten up. At least cry a little."

Negan laughed and stuck the gun in the front of his pants as he stood back up. He walked back down the line again, looking over each and every one of us, sizing us up, deciding which one of us he was going to pick. And for what, we didn't know nor did we want to. Maggie was starting to sway back and forth, the crushing grip she had on my hand had loosened significantly. I tightened my grip on hers very roughly and elbowed her, trying to get her to focus on staying conscious. Her ragged breathing told me it was an effort, but she managed. Suddenly, Negan stopped right in front of us, eyeing her closely.

"Jeeesuuus. You look shitty. I should just put your out of your misery right now," he swung the bat upwards behind him. My breath caught in my throat and my stomach heaved upwards.

"NOOO!" Glenn yelled out to our right. My eyes shot over to him as he struggled to his feet and toward Negan. Negan swung around as one of his Saviors tackled Glenn to the ground where they kicked and beat him.

"Stop it!" Maggie yelled, tearing her hand from mine to clutch at the earth in front of her.

Dwight pinned Glenn down and aimed the crossbow at his head as he struggled and fought.

"Nope! Nope, get him back in line," he told Dwight. He looked annoyed again and sighed. Dwight dragged Glenn back to his spot and set him on his knees. Glenn looked desperately at Maggie.

"Don't," he cried to Negan. "Don't."

Negan only smiled again and chuckled silently to himself. It was clear this is what he wanted, the begging. This is what made him feel in charge. And it did make him in charge, our fear. It gave him everything.

"Alright, listen," Negan started. "Don't any of ya' do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions. First one's free, it's an emotional moment, I get it." He looked at Glenn for a moment before swinging back to address Rick. "Sucks, don't it? Moment you realize you don't know shit," he laughed silently again and pointed his bat at Carl.

"This is your kid, right?" This time he laughed out loud, enjoying himself. "This is definitely your kid."

"So stop this!" Rick yelled.

"HEY!" Negan yelled back. I jumped and the gravel dug sharply into my knees.

"Do not make me kill the future serial killer. Don't make it easy on me!" He pleaded with Rick. "I gotta pick somebody. Eeeevrybody's at the table waitin' for me to order." He fixed Rick with a pointed look and started to whistle. He eyes roamed us again, looking for the right one.

"I simply cannot decide!" He laughed, throwing his hands up in the air. He turned his head this way and that, looking at us all again with a sinister gleam in his brown eyes. It was then that they found mine and I quickly looked down, razor-winged butterflies tearing my insides.

"Holy fucking shit. Who the hell is _this_?" he said as he sauntered in front of me. He stopped and I saw the bat swinging inches from my face. He bent down in front of me, his elbows resting on top of his knees, Lucille scraping the ground in front of mine. "And what, might I ask, is your name?"

"Everly," I managed weakly. I glanced up at him to see him wearing his signature smile again, eyes boring into me. I quickly looked back down and felt myself shaking violently.

"Everly. That's a pretty name, a pretty name to match a pretty face. It would be a shame," he brought Lucille up to my face and I tilted my head back away from it, "if I had to fucking bash in your pretty face. Wouldn't it, Everly?"

I looked into his eyes and saw death. I didn't know what to do or say, so I just stared and trembled. I focused on my breathing, savoring what last breaths I could take when he chuckled and stroked the side of my face with Lucille, the sharp points of the wire scratching my cheek.

"No," he whispered. "I don't think Lucille wants to do that; doesn't seem right. I bet you don't even have an ounce of violence in your blood," he lowered Lucille back down to the ground and his eyes held mine. He bit his lip as he smiled and gingerly straightened back to a standing position.

"I have an idea!"He said, making me jump again. He looked away from me and walked back over to Rick, pointing Lucille at his face.

"Eenie," he began, then moved Lucille to point at Abraham, "meenie-miney-mo," Lucille appeared shocking close to my face again. I crushed my lips together to keep from calling out. Negan continued to smile. "Catch-the tiger-by-his toe."

He gave us each a turn to look Lucille dead on as he recited his rhyme. As he came to the end, he jabbed Lucille into the face of Abraham, declaring him "It". I was shivering forcibly now, tears streaming down my face. Abraham stared up at Negan, not a breath of fear on his face.

"Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father and then we'll start. You can breathe. You can blink. You can cry. Hell, you're all gonna be doing that," Negan finished and brought Lucille down onto Abraham's head.

"Oh! Look at that! Takin' it like a champ!" He prided as screams rang out.

Abraham sat back up on his knees, blood running down his forehead, "Suck. My. Nuts."

Negan didn't say anything, but blood splattered on my face and chest as he hit Abraham again. Lucille flew through the air, blood trailing behind her as Negan brought her down over and over again on Abrahams head. Brains, hair, blood, bone, rock; it all came together to form a sickening sound, the wood and wire singing as it sliced through the air.

At last, it was over. I tried to breathe in, but I found myself unable to. I pictured myself gasping for air like a fish out of water, mouth and throat quivering in the desperate need to draw in oxygen. Then the sob flooded out and I could breathe again, air filling and burning my lungs each gulp full at a time.

"Did you hear that?" Negan laughed, slightly out of breath. "He said, suck my nuts!"

He continued to laugh, leaning back and breathing out deeply. Suddenly, he was back at it, hitting what was left of Abraham's head over and over again and grunting with each swing. The sight and smell of blood assaulted me and it was the only thing I could take in. I reacted before I could stop myself.

"Fucking stop it!" I screamed, spittle flying from my mouth. "Just stop!"

And he did. Negan stopped and looked at me, Lucille dripping sticky blood onto the ground.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asked, smiling and breathing heavily. "I couldn't hear you," Negan looked my face over, cocking his head toward me. I swallowed noisily and struggled to gain control of my vocal chords.

"I-," I began but Negan swung Lucille back down again and again on Abraham. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head, fighting back the urge to be sick.

"Oh!" Negan said as he relented at last and straightened himself. I didn't dare look at him. "You said stop; my bad."

I could hear the smug smile in his voice.

"Hey, he wasn't your dad or anything was he?" He pointed Lucille down at the puddle that used to be Abraham's head. "You both being gingers and all. You're easier on the eyes, I'll say that," he chortled. He shuffled his feet and stuck out Lucille to watch the blood drip to the ground.

"But hey," he started gently, twirling the bat around in his gloved hand, "at least you've got a clear idea of what you'll look like"-he abruptly stomped up to me and bent over to scream in my face-"if you don't shut the fuck up!"

I closed my eyes tightly and sobbed, flinching away from him. Suddenly, Daryl was on his feet and rushing toward Negan. His fist shot out and caught him in the jaw which sent him reeling backwards. Negan's men lurched toward Daryl, grabbing and beating him. Daryl fought back, reaching out for Negan again and barely missing him. Negan only smiled as he rubbed his jaw where Daryl's fist had landed. The Saviors finally pinned Daryl down.

"Daryl, no! No, no," Negan said as he pointed Lucille down at him and laughed. "That. Oh, my! That"-he stooped down next to where his Saviors had Daryl pinned down-"is a no-no. The whole thing! Not one bit of that shit flies here!" He stuck the head of Lucille in Daryl's face.

Dwight came up on Daryl, pointing his own crossbow down at his head, "You want me to do it? Right here?"

Negan seemed to think about it for a minute before looking back down at Daryl, grabbing him by his hair to pull his head back.

"Naw. No, you don't kill that. Not until you try a little," Negan smiled. Dwight looked from Negan to Daryl before slowly lowering the crossbow and stepping back. The Saviors dragged him back in line.

"Anyway!" Negan sauntered forward to face us again. "That's not how it works. I already told you people. First one's free. Then what I'd say? I said I would shut that shit down! No exceptions. Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you been dealing with, but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important. I need you…to know me. So…back to it!"

Negan swirled to his left and brought Lucille down in a violent blow to the top of Glenn's head. Maggie tried to scream out beside me, but her breath got caught on the way out. She sobbed silently, eyes wide and unbelieving. Negan hit him again.

"Noooo!" She finally let out.

Glenn sat back up, working hard to draw in air. Blood gushed down his face and it was evident his skull had been crushed. It was made more evident by the fact that one eye bulged sickeningly from its socket. He looked at Maggie and tried to speak, but nothing coherent would come out. Sobs and gasps were heard all down the line as his mouth moved to form words he couldn't speak.

"Buddy, you still there?" Negan asked and he bent over to Glenn, Lucille held up in the air behind his back. "I just don't know. It seems like you're trying to speak!" He looked absolutely fascinated, "But you just took a hell of a hit! I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just popped out! And it is gross as shit!"

"M-m-aggie, I-I'll find you," Glenn managed to utter, shaking and bleeding.

"Aw, hell," the smile dropped from Negan's face. A somber look overtook it instead, "I can see this is hard on you guys. I am sorry. I truly am. But I did say"-the smile came back-"no exceptions!" And he jovially smashed Lucille into Glenn's head again.

Somehow, and I don't know how, I managed to block out what was happening until it was over. My eyes saw nothing, my ears heard nothing. I felt nothing as Negan smashed Glenn's head to a bloody, wet mess. I only knew it was over when he walked up to Rick and started speaking again, but I didn't hear the words. I just stared straight ahead, seeing nothing but the darkness beyond. It wasn't until Negan had a grip on Rick and was dragging him to the RV, an axe now stuck inside his belt that I snapped back to reality.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The sun was breaking out over the tree tops thirty minutes later. The birds sang cheerily, the night sounds slowly ebbing away. The sight and smell of blood hung in the air, ever choking and stifling despite the breeze. I wanted nothing more than to get to my feet and run, never stopping, but I knew it would be a death sentence, and not just mine, if I did. Instead, I clutched my hands into fists and looked to the sky, watching the clouds starting to light up, and thinking of anything else while we waited for what came next.

"You know," Simon started to make his way in front of us, "this could have all been avoided if you didn't have such a giant dumbass of leader." He took time to look at all of us, frightened and sick. He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know how you guys organize your patriarchy back home, but here, I'm Negan's right-hand man. And you guys know what that means, right? That means that whenever Negan is not here, I'm the one in charge. It also means that he looks to me whenever he isn't feeling too sure about something. Is there anyone like that in your group?"

Simon spread out his arms and looked at us in turn.

"He's not here? Oh… Maybe he doesn't exist or maybe he's a giant dumbass, too. That might've been your first mistake. You know what I would've said if I had been Rick's right-hand man before any of this shit happened? I would've said, hey, Rick, maybe you shouldn't be such a fucking puffed up Larry on an ego trip and give Negan what he wants. Might save us some heartache," Simon made a scrunched up face and shrugged again, his hands thrown out, "Might actually be a good deal for us in the end."

Simon stopped his walk, and put his hands in his pockets, eyeing us all. No one said anything because part of us knew he was right. Why didn't we just comply? We should have known something like this would happen eventually the more we resisted and demanded our independence. Sure, Alexandria was fortified and we had a lot of men, but we had underestimated just how powerful and psychotic Negan truly was much to our despair.

"That's okay," Simon continued, nodding. He sniffed and sighed. "Maybe one of you dumb assholes can get started on that shit once Rick gets back. You know, to avoid turning your heads into hamburger meat in the future."

Simon chuckled and shook his head as walked back behind us. It wasn't too much later when the RV rolled up. We all held our breath waiting to see who would or wouldn't emerge. The door opened to show Negan holding a very humbled Rick by the collar of his jacket. He threw him to the ground, an axe slipped out of Rick's hand as he fell. Negan stomped out of the RV and grabbed a hold of him again, dragging him through the dirt as he walked toward us. He threw Rick on the ground and straighten himself, Lucille still clutched in his hand.

"Here we are. Let me ask you something, Rick. You even know what that little trip was about?" He gave Rick a moment to reply. When none came, he continued, "Speak when you're spoken to."

"Okay. Okay," Rick breathed raggedly.

"That trip was about the way you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand," Negan smiled down at him, Lucille lightly swinging in his right hand. "But you're still looking at me that same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs and that's not gonna work! So," Negan sighed and bent down next to Rick, spinning Lucille in his hands, "Do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah," Rick breathed. "Yes."

Negan patted him on the back and stood back up.

"Okay," he sighed, "Alright! And here it is; the grand prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's _last_ crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads."

Negan's Saviors came up behind each of us, the click of metal on metal loud in my ears. I could feel the barrel pushing the air against my head, felt the ghost of the cool metal on my skull.

"Good. Yeah. Level with their noses so if you have to fire"-Negan made an explosion noise-"it'll be a real mess."

Negan knowingly smiled down at Rick, strutting in front of him to show him he was in charge. The roles had changed permanently. He looked at Carl.

"Hey, kid," Negan gestured to Carl with his hand to come forward and pointed a finger at the ground in front of him. "Right here."

When Carl only glared at him, Negan raised his eyebrows and gave him a stern smile, "Kid, now."

Carl slowly got to his feet, his sullen stare not leaving Negan's as he made his way in front of him.

"You a southpaw?" Negan asked as he started to take off his belt.

"Am I a what?" Carl smartly replied.

"Are you a lefty?" Negan smiled.

"No."

"Good," Negan grabbed Carl's left arm and wrapped his belt around his bicep. "That hurt?"

"No."

"It should. It's supposed to," Negan tightened the belt and turned back to Rick. "Alright, get down on the ground, kid, and get next to daddy. Spread them wings!" He grabbed Carl's hat off of his head and flung it over his shoulder. Carl got on the ground and laid out his arms.

Negan looked up, "Simon, you got a pen?"

"Yeah," Simon said and tossed a sharpie to him.

"Sorry, kid," Negan said as he bent next to Carl, his speech impeded by the sharpie cap in his mouth. "It's gonna be as cold as a warlock's balls, like he's just hanging his ball sack right above ya' and draaaagged it right across your forearm."

Negan drew a black line across the middle of Carl's left forearm.

"Please," Rick whispered to him, "Please, don't."

"Me?" Negan laughed. "I ain't doing shit."

Negan stood back up, leaving Rick on his knees beside his son.

"Rick, I want you to take your axe and cut your son's left arm off right on that line. Now, I know, you gotta process that for a second. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it or aaaall these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die, and then you, eventually. We'll keep you breathing for a few years just so you can stew on it."

"You-you don't have to do this," Michonne piped up, her eyes pleading. "We understand, we understand. We-"

Negan cut her off, "You understand! Yeah! I'm not sure that Rick does." He looked back to Rick, "I'm gonna need a clean cut, right there on that line. I know this is a screwed up thing to ask, but I'm gonna need a salami slice; nothing messy, clean 45 degrees. Give us somethin' to fold over. We got a great doctor, the kid will be fine… Probably."

Rick didn't say anything nor did he move. His eyes wandered around the clearing, not really taking anything in.

"Rick," Negan bent next to him again, putting his hand on his shoulder like a friend would, "this needs to happen now. Chop, chop or I'll crush the little fella's skull in myself."

"It can-It can be me," Rick managed to sputter. "It can be me. It can be me. You can do it to me. I-I can go-go with you."

"No, this is the only way," Negan stood back up. "Rick, pick up the axe."

Rick continued to kneel, not moving.

"Not making a decision is a _big_ decision! You really want to see all these people die? You will! You will see every ugly thing."

I blinked slowly, looking at Rick and silently urging him to do something, anything. The gun pressed closer to the back of my head, brushing my hair. I involuntarily shifted forwards away from it. Rick didn't move one bit.

"Oh, my God!" Negan expressed. "Are you gonna make me count? Okay, Rick. You win! I am counting. Three!"

"Please," Rick pleaded, anxiety choking him as he sobbed. "Please. It can be me. Please!"

"Two!" Negan yelled at him. He knelt back down beside him and smacked him hard across the face.

"Please!" Rick wailed.

Negan grabbed his face with his gloved hand and looked into his eyes, "This is it."

Rick looked down as Negan let him go. His hand moved toward the axe in front of him. He let out a long wail and placed his hand on the axe as Negan finished counting. He took a hold of Carl's hand and looked at him.

"Dad, just do it. Just do it," Carl said bravely.

Rick gripped the axe and brought his hand up behind his shoulder. Hot tears stung my eyes as I clutched my stomach, not wanting to watch but unable to look away from the sunlight gleaming across the sharpened edge of the axe. I sobbed out and Rick wailed again, ready to bring down the axe on his son's arm.

"Wait, wait," Negan said as he knelt once more next to Rick, an easy smile fitted on his face. Rick looked at him unbelievingly. "You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me."

Rick was hyperventilating now, his hand with the axe still halfway in the air.

"Speak when you're spoken to!" Negan grabbed Rick by the jaw again and screamed in his face. "You answer to me! You provide for me!"

"Provide for you," Rick nodded and stammered out.

"You belong to me! Right?!"

Rick nodded again and looked at Negan, eyes wide and terrified.

"Right!" Negan said. He pointed at Rick's face, " _That_ is the look I wanted to see."

He stood and grabbed the axe from Rick.

"You're a fucking bastard," I said softly, shaking my head. My hands were clutching my thighs and I kept my eyes on the ground. I wasn't sure if he had heard me, and maybe it was good if he hadn't, but I couldn't stop the words from coming out of my mouth. Negan didn't move for a minute, but eventually he spoke.

"We did it. All of us, together; even the dead guys on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award for sure!" Negan swung Lucille around to point to the crumpled bodies of Abraham and Glenn. "Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope for all your sake that you get it now, that you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you," his eyes fell on me, "that is over now."

Negan shifted his sights to Daryl who was bent over with a murderous look in his eyes. "Ah, Dwight, load him up."

Dwight grabbed Daryl from behind and began to drag him to the back of a van. Daryl struggled, but he was soon overpowered and shoved inside. Negan looked at me again.

"You know what; I think I want to take the girl, too. Think of her as extra insurance for me…or for you, depending on how you look at it. Simon!" Negan swung Lucille from me toward the van with a mocking smile on his face.

"Wha-," I started, incredulous, when Simon's hands gripped my arms and pulled me to my feet.

"No! Get off of me!" I screamed and started to kick at the ground. Simon's hands crushed my arms as he struggled with me, pushing me toward the back of the open van where Daryl knelt. Gravel and dirt went flying as I tried to dig my feet in the ground to no avail. He was simply too strong and the ground too weak, the rocks not providing the best purchase for my struggle. I was losing strength the harder I fought against him.

"Look at that!" Negan laughed behind me. I could hear sobs from the rest of the group as Simon brought me up to the van and roughly shoved me inside. My knees slammed onto the bottom of the van as Daryl caught me in his arms and pulled me against him.

"It's okay," He whispered in my hair. "I've got you."

"Fire, that one!" Negan laughed out. His smile was the last thing I saw as Dwight slammed the van doors shut.

* * *

 **Hey guys! I've been really excited about this story. I've already written ten chapters and I'm so eager to publish them all, but I'm going to try not to get ahead of myself. I've already reread, edited, rewritten, etc. each chapter about four times (and I'm sure those won't be my last).**

 **I decided to go ahead and post this chapter because it is already something you guys have seen before (possibly) but with a slight twist. I have leaned heavily on the show to write the first two chapters, but you guys already knew that! So, I figured it wouldn't hurt to publish early so you guys would have something NEWER to look forward to next time.**

 **I will post a chapter each week, probably on a Friday or Saturday. Look for them! Thank you for your awesome reviews so far, and I'm excited for you guys to read what happens next! Enjoy! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"I don't want to go, Daryl," I sobbed into his chest, clutching his arms tightly.

"I know, but I'll be there with you. I won't let them hurt you," he said, but I could hear the fear in his voice. I knew he wouldn't be able to save me from any of them. Just as none of us could save each other back in that clearing.

We rode the rest of the way to Negan's camp in silence, the only sound being the tires turning on the asphalt, the air rushing by and the fear thumping in our hearts. The ride felt both short and long, but I knew when we had arrived. A chill ran up my spine, goose bumps spreading over my body. _Breathe_. I commanded myself. _Keep breathing and give them what they want_.

But what did they want? I wasn't sure I had it in me to give it to them, whatever it was. I couldn't be their paper doll; I wouldn't let them bend me how they wanted. What choice did I have, though? If I resisted, fought back, what would they do to me, to Daryl, or to the others back home? We had all gotten ourselves into this situation by not doing what was asked of us. Could I follow orders like a well-trained puppy?

"I don't think I can do this," I whispered. Daryl shifted his legs under me as the van slowed and took a turn.

"I'm not sure I can either," he answered.

"We have to," I added.

"Maybe," he rasped back.

The van stopped and Dwight looked back at us.

"Home, sweet, home!" He piped out.

The back doors to the van opened and sunlight poured in, blinding me. I squinted my eyes against the forceful rays as Simon commanded us out of the vehicle, Dwight standing beside him. I slowly edged myself forward and onto my feet, Daryl climbing out behind me. Immediately, someone grabbed my arm and began ushering me to what looked like an old factory building.

"Welcome to the Sanctuary! Right this way," Simon gestured to a set of double doors as if he were showing us into a Hilton hotel. He leaned heavily on the handle, his hand on his hip, "This, you shits, is your new home. You are not free here; you do not decide what you get to do here. Not until we break you two in a little."

Simon winked and smiled before pulling the door open to show dimly lit corridors. Not one door was open as we were led through a maze of hallways, each one looking like the last. The further inside we went, the more confused I got. I had no idea where I was at in this place.

"First stop, Daryl's new room," we were brought up short to a door that looked just like the rest. "This is a nice suite. Plenty of room for cowering in dark corners and wishing you were never born. You're gonna love it!"

Simon flashed his teeth at Daryl before Dwight and two other Saviors started ripping his clothes off. Simon started whistling as he unlocked the door. Daryl struggled with the Saviors, but they quickly overpowered him, his clothes falling to the floor in a heap. Simon flicked his eyes from Daryl toward me as he let out a long whistle.

"Does it feel cold in here to you?" He said to me as he swung the door open to reveal a small cell. "Inside you go!"

Simon grabbed hold of Daryl's arm and shoved him in. Daryl slammed against a concrete wall three steps inside. Simon quickly shut the door and locked it. He knocked on the door, "Hey, buddy, don't feel too bad. It does get kinda cozy in there after a while."

He turned to me.

"After you, my lady," Simon bowed to the side, his hands out in a gesture for me to precede him. The Savior guiding me shoved me forward and we walked through a couple more hallways before reaching the door that I would be locked behind. Simon stopped in front of the door and slowly turned to face me.

"Now," he said, tilting his head back, his eyes going wide. "We can do this two ways. You saw the first way with Daryl. We weren't exactly gentle with him, but that's how boys do, you know?"

My heart thumped in my chest like a bird trapped in a cage. My legs felt like jello and I was resisting the impulse to lash out and rake my nails across his face.

"Now, you being a lady and us gentlemen, we will give you the option to go inside, undress and pass your clothes out to us. If that isn't something you want to do, well, the nice men behind you sure wouldn't mind giving you a hand or two."

I narrowed my eyes at him and looked down. I took in a deep breath and steadied myself. Option two it was.

"I'll do it," I replied.

"Good. We'll be waiting here," Simon pushed the door in, his eyes still on me.

I looked at him for one more second before shifting my gaze inside the dark room. It was identical to Daryl's save for a small window located high up on the far left side; too high to reach and too small to fit through. I took a step past Simon and into the room, my arms wrapped around my chest.

"You have thirty seconds before we come in and help you," he added before shutting the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I gasped out a breath, feeling my chest spasm as I tried to breathe in. My hands were shaking as I grabbed my thighs as I bent over; I couldn't get control of myself and hot tears fell to the floor.

"Twenty seconds!" Simon's muffled voice called.

Shaky hands reached for the bottom of my sweater. I pulled it over my head and let it fall to the floor as I undid my belt and pants. I slid them down before they came to a stop above my laced boots.

"Ten seconds!" He called out again.

My fingers trembled nervously as I struggled to untie both boots and kick them off.

"Five seconds. Everything better be off in there once time is up!"

I pulled my socks off and reached to pull my undershirt over my head.

"Three, two," my underwear puddled on the floor. "One!"

The door creaked open just enough for a hand to reach through.

"Clothes please," Simon wiggled his fingers. I reached down, piling everything into my hands and placing them into his. The door opened a few more inches as he pulled his hands back out. I backed into the far corner behind the door.

"Let's see if we got everything: one bra, one pair of panties, a pair of jeans, socks, boots, one sweater, and an undershirt. Look like we got everything, boys, or should I go check?" Simon asked.

I heard laughs and voices of consent. I cowered against the corner, covering myself as Simon poked his head around the door. He smiled.

"Alrighty. Thanks for making it easy on us, darlin'," he shut the door, locking it into place.

I gasped and I slid down the rough wall to the concrete floor, tears forming rivulets down my cheeks. Choking on sobs, I huddled in that dark corner wondering what would come next. And nothing did, for a time. The minutes passed and so did the hours. Eventually, the small window on the opposite wall high above me began to darken.

My whole body felt numb, my face swollen and my head aching from shed tears. I tried so hard to keep my thoughts from going back to the morning, hearing the crunch and squelch of Lucille as she pulverized; saw the red, wet stickiness of blood flying through the air. I realized with a start that I still had Abraham's blood on me. I looked down at my chest, brushing my fingers against the dried blood.

I let my head fall back against the wall as I hugged my knees tighter against my chest. Through the window, I could see the stars winking in the indigo sky. The day was almost over. This bloody, cursed day was almost over and I had nothing but death to look forward to.

* * *

 **Thank you for reviewing, following and adding me to your favorites. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. :)**

 **I have been DYING to post more chapters this entire week, but I've rewritten all of them so many times... I keep thinking of new things to add or take away. It's kinda driving me crazy, but it's fun at the same time.**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. It's one of my shorter ones and there's no Negan, but there will be more as the story goes on (of course)!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It wasn't until midday two days later that I heard the rattle of keys against the door and the click of the lock opening. I scrambled to a squat, my knees against my chest and my hair covering my shoulders, shivering.

Dwight stepped inside with a small sandwich in his hand. He held it out to me. I didn't move, my eyes watching him through my hair. He gave a laugh of exasperation and rolled his eyes.

"Eat," he commanded and shook the sandwich at me.

I didn't move other than to tighten my grip around my legs. I looked at the sandwich and felt my stomach grumble and ache. I wanted it badly, but I also didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"If you eat, you can shower," he tried to bargain. That sounded nice, and I liked a bargain more than a command.

I slowly reached a shaky hand out and took the sandwich from him. Dwight stood there as I shoved the cheese sandwich in my mouth, choking it down. It was the best, and driest, cheese sandwich I had ever had.

"Water?" He asked as he held out a small pixie cup.

I grabbed it from his hand and downed it in one gulp, savoring the wetness on my throat. I threw the crushed cup at his feet and wrapped my arms around my knees again, falling back into the dark corner. Dwight sighed a laugh and rolled his eyes again.

"Where's Daryl?" I demanded hoarsely.

He looked at me for a moment before answering, "I'll be back later for your shower." And he stepped back out, closing the door. I heard the key engage the lock.

I pushed my head against the wall, my eyes focusing on the stained ceiling. I thought about Daryl and how he was faring in his room; if he was as cold and miserable as me. We could have done things so much more differently, made wiser decisions. We could be home right now. Abraham and Glenn could still be breathing. They could be alive.

The stinging tears made me close my eyes first, but the sudden dizziness kept them closed after. My head swam and I ran a hand over my forehead and through my hair. _Just hungry_ , I thought. A small cheese sandwich wasn't exactly proper sustenance after almost three days of no food with little water and sleep. I wasn't going to last long if they kept me locked in here, but that might be their plan; to weaken me. And it might just work.

Abruptly, I heard someone at the door again and the lock unlatched. Dwight opened the door and threw something at me.

"Put these on," he said and shut the door.

I looked at what had landed at my feet and grasped the soft material. It was a dirty cotton sweatshirt and pants, an orange X painted on the front. I hesitantly put them on and stood by the door.

"Are you ready yet?" Dwight called.

"Yes," I said nervously. I still felt dizzy, but also numb. Thinking about where I was and what had happened seemed not so significant anymore. I just wanted a hot shower to wash the blood and grime away.

Dwight swung the door open and looked at me. I took a step forward. When he did nothing but stare, I made my way past him and out into the hallway, my legs weak and heavy. He grabbed my arm roughly and started to walk me through the concurrent corridors until we reached a set of doors with a sign beside them that read "Locker Rooms". He guided me into the nearest one.

Inside was like any typical locker room; lockers and benches to one side, two separate rooms for toilets and showers to the other. It didn't look like it was used hardly at all, but I could only assume everything still worked. Large, cloudy windows brightened the room at the far south and east sides. Dwight let me go and sat down on a bench nearest to the showers.

"Here are the rules," he said. "You can use the bathroom and shower. You have twenty minutes. You try anything with me and I will lock you in that room until you're nothing but dust and bones. Am I clear?"

I nodded my head.

"Good," he gave me a stern but careful look that I couldn't read. It almost seemed like he felt bad for me. "Go ahead."

He turned to the side and started to fiddle with something in his hands. I looked behind me at the toilets and shower. I decided the toilets were a good first start and headed there, relieving myself after having to use only a small bucket for the past two days. I looked around the room to search for a potential way out, a window, something, but there was no outlet other than the way I had come in. Back in the main locker room, Dwight still occupied the same spot and he didn't look up from his task.

"I-," I began, but my throat felt dry and my tongue thick. The dizziness hadn't left me and my limbs felt heavy. Dwight looked up as I tried again. "I need soap…a towel."

"I've got it all right here," he said holding up his hand to show a bar of soap. He grabbed a bag beside him that I hadn't notice before and pulled out other assorted toiletries. I took them from his outstretched hands.

"Thanks," I said and started to the showers when he got up and began to follow me. I spun around. "What are you doing?" I demanded.

"I can't leave you unsupervised," he said. "The toilets were one thing seeing as it's nothing but porcelain and tile in there. There are windows in the shower room. I can't leave you alone with temptation, can I?"

 _Damn_ , I thought. _But maybe…_ I didn't get to finish the thought before Dwight shoved my shoulder.

"It's fifteen minutes now. You don't have a lot of time."

I gave him a sideways glare before clumsily making my way into the shower room, arms full and him following close behind. I glanced at the gritty, opaque windows and tried to determine how high we were, but I couldn't see through them. It would be so easy to push one open to look and climb outside… Instead, I found a stall and placed all the items in my arms inside, trying to not fall over as I bent down. I placed a hand against the shower wall to steady myself and rubbed my forehead with the other.

"What's the hold up?" I heard an inflection of amusement in Dwight's voice.

"I'm just really dizzy. I don't think that pitiful sandwich you gave me was enough after starving me for days," I snapped back at him and gingerly stood up, using the shower wall for support.

"No, probably not," he sniffed.

I looked back at him over my shoulder with a disgusted look. He remained stoic, his hands clasped in front of him. He shifted his eyes to the shower head and nodded towards it, urging me to get on with it. I rolled my eyes and faced back toward the shower, turning the water on. I put my hand under the running stream and felt icy cold water. I adjusted the handle, trying to find warmer water but it yielded none. My temper flared and I gritted my teeth to avoid from screaming out. I could feel Dwight's eyes on my back, and I caught myself before letting out a rush of unsavory words.

"Could you at least turn around?!" I snapped, turning around to glare at him. He smiled and shrugged, turning a bit to his right to face the windows, his scarred face still visible but his eyes staring straight ahead.

"Best I can do for you," he replied monotonously.

I gave out a sigh of indignation before ripping the sweatshirt over my head and throwing it to the floor. I stepped out of the cotton pants and into the freezing cold water. Gasping from the icy chill that rippled over me, I wet my hair and body, grabbing the soap and quickly lathering a small, dingy rag to scrub my body. I poured shampoo onto my numb and shaking hands and washed my scalp, rinsing the suds out as quickly as I could. I let the icy cold water fill my mouth, gulping down mouthfuls. _At least there's this,_ I thought as I quenched my thirst, unable to stop. Despite the biting water, I felt myself relax, my temper at bay for the moment.

"Time's up," Dwight called.

I turned the water off and grabbed the small towel I had been provided, quickly drying myself and hoping Dwight was still daydreaming out of the window. I wrapped it around myself and turned around to see him in the same spot, eyes still straight ahead. I sighed inwardly.

"I'm done," I said softly.

Dwight turned his eyes to me and let his gaze drop to the towel.

"You're not dressed," he stated matter-of-factly.

"No," I looked at him like he was dense. "What am I supposed to get dressed with?"

He gave me a pointed look and raised his eyebrows. I stared at him for a second more before I got it.

"You're going to make me put those nasty clothes back on after I just washed off?"

"It's all you get, for now," he smiled flatly. I shook my head and threw my hands up.

"Fine," I grabbed the dirty, stained clothes off of the floor and put them on, using the towel to cover myself as I did so. "There."

"After me," he started to walk back to the main locker room. "You can leave all that shit in there. You might get to come back if you behave yourself. Here."

He handed me a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste over his shoulder. I took it from him and he pointed to a set of sinks. I quickly brushed my teeth, relishing the minty, clean feeling. I laid the toothbrush on the sink afterward and Dwight snapped his fingers at me to follow him into the hallway. He took hold of my arm and guided me back in the direction of my cell. I felt my feet start to dig into the floor. I didn't want to go back in, not after having a taste of a little bit of freedom. I could feel my heart pounding in my mouth. Dwight yanked me forward and glared at me from the side, his eyes telling me that it was not a good idea to resist. I silently complied, steeling myself for another night of torturous solitude.

As we rounded a corner, Dwight suddenly pulled me to a stopped and dropped into a kneeling position, dragging me down next to him. I hit the concrete floor on my already bruised and sore knees.

"Ah!" I called out as the pain throbbed through them. I looked over at him to see his head bowed and I furrowed my eyebrows. _The fuck?_ I thought when I heard heavy, rubber footsteps stop in front of me. I looked back ahead to see two jean clad legs and Lucille dangling in the air beside them.

As if in slow motion, I let my eyes travel upwards, over a black leather jacket and up to the face of Negan who smirked down at me, his eyes bright and sinister. He cocked his head to the side as I stared at him and I felt like a deer in headlights. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't, too afraid to move. I held his gaze and he chuckled once, licking his lip. He squinted his eyes and shifted his weight to one foot, turning his body to the side. He slowly stepped past me, his eyes never faltering from mine.

I heard the rubber soles of his boots recede as he walked away and I started to breathe again. Dwight stood up, tugging me up with him, and continued down the hall. He stopped in front of my cell and opened the door, shoving me inside.

I turned as he started to close the door, but he stopped abruptly, stepping quickly inside and getting into my face. I glared right back at him.

" Don't _ever_ ," he emphasized, "do that again."

I faltered at the intensity in his eyes and nodded once in consent.

"If you know what's good for you or anyone you care about," he whispered, "you get on your knees and lower your fucking head the next time you see him. I promise you, next time he won't be as forgiving."

I swallowed the lump that was lodged in my throat, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. I nodded again and looked down, taking a step back to let my back touch the wall. Dwight gave me one last knowing look, before turning to the door and slamming it behind him, the lock clicking into place.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The next couple of weeks passed by the same way as the first two days had, cold and solitary with only the little window and the sky outside it to keep me company. Most days Dwight would show up a few times a day with a meager cheese sandwich to which I would gratefully devour, my stomach aching and empty, with a small dixie cup of water to wash it down. Sometimes the water had a slight bitter aftertaste, and I would feel worse after I had consumed it; my head spinning, an invisible weight heavy on my body. I knew I was being drugged, but I only got it on the days Dwight took me out of my cell. The brief moments of freedom every few days felt worth it.

I had asked Dwight about Daryl every time he came to me. Sometimes I would start asking before he had even gotten the door open, but I was never given an answer. It got to the point where I would repeat myself until Dwight would get annoyed and threaten me. I only stopped asking after he threatened Daryl. If my imprisonment was any indication, he was faring about just as well as me, and I was surviving okay, if hardly at all.

A look in the dirty locker room mirrors told me all I needed to know, though, if I hadn't known already. I was slowly dying, starving and withering away to nothing. My bones were beginning to stick out, my face sunken in and pale, my auburn hair stark against my skin. If I hadn't been so deprived of any true human contact, and the effects of the tainted water weren't constantly present, I might have cared. But the truth was that I had lost hope. I had nothing to look forward to other than thirty minutes of freedom whenever my captors felt like giving it to me, and even then I wasn't truly free. Not even close.

My stomach made a loud grumbling noise and I started to salivate when I heard Dwight's key slip into the lock; a regular Pavlov's dog. He opened the door, his lanky frame filling the doorway. I held out a hand, eager for my paltry meal. Instead, he told me to get up.

"What?" I asked stupidly.

"I said, get up," he replied with impatience.

Confused, I slowly got to my feet and took a step toward the door. I furrowed my brow and gave him a questioning look, but all he did was step aside to let me through. In the hallway, he took my arm as usual and led me to the locker rooms.

"Be quick," he said and took a seat on a bench.

I stared after him for a moment before slowly turning around to do my business. _What is going on?_ I thought. He hadn't given me the water, and he wasn't following me into the showers. Something was happening and my heart beat in excitement. Was I getting out of this place?

 _No_. I told myself. _Don't be stupid_.

No, they must have found some use for me other than keeping me locked up in a tiny room. Maybe Dwight was tired of having to look over me. Maybe I had proved something to them. Either way, I was looking forward to what was going to come next, or maybe I was dreading it if the knots in my stomach were any indication.

I had taken the advice Dwight had given me the first day I was let out. I hadn't opposed the rule of knee-bending and no eye contact anymore whenever Negan was around. I got on my knee and kept my head down like a good little subordinate despite wanting to stay standing. It was against my nature to submit so easily, but I reminded myself that I had more to worry about than just me. More than my life was on the line and it was petty of me to be difficult. But if there was a way out, a chance at getting free, I would take it. Wouldn't I?

I thought of the others back home, wondering how they were holding up; if Maggie and the baby were okay and if Negan had shown up in Alexandria yet. I closed my eyes as I put my face under the stingy cold spray of the shower. I hoped they were fine and that no other tragedies from Negan's hands had befallen them.

I turned the shower off and grabbed the towel provided to me, drying off. I turned to put back on the same clothes I had been given two and a half weeks before to find that they were gone. Instead, I saw a clean set of clothes; jeans, t-shirt, sneakers, underwear. My chest tightened because now I really knew. I wasn't going back to that fucking room.

* * *

"This is one of the common areas. There are two and we call them the Commons, naturally," Dwight said as he led me into a large, dimly lit room. "This area is more a place for sleeping and getting your everyday essentials. The other is more…recreational."

It looked like any typical warehouse with rafters and air ducts exposed above. There were walkways high up as well and stairs on either side of the room that led up to them. Multiple windows lined the building, gritty but clear. I could see more than just the sky outside, see the silhouetted trees sway against the twilight. I smiled.

On the ground floor, I saw cots with numbers above them lined up in a row, belongings stacked up at the foot of them. There were also a few stands set up around the floor. People were standing in lines behind them, getting things like food or clothing. They didn't exchange money but instead used a card which would get hole punched a certain number of times for what it was they wanted.

"You earn points here," Dwight said. He must have noticed me looking. "The more work you do for us, the more points you earn. We do have a ranking system here, as most societies do. The higher the rank you have, the more points you garner. I can tell you now that you're on the lowest one."

"Well," I swallowed, "how do you go up?"

"You," Dwight said, he eyes leveling with mine, " _you_ don't."

He started to walk off as I took that in. I would be stuck on the lowest rank, pulling in minimal points for as long as I was here. I believed that fully. It was a start, however, at some sort of life until I could get back to Alexandria. _I will get back home,_ I promised myself. Dwight turned around, snapping his fingers at me and whistling. My eyes narrowed at him, but I remembered myself and lowered my gaze to the ground, starting after him.

"This is you."

He had come to a stop in front of a small cot, a flat pillow and tattered blanket on the mattress. A cardboard box sat at the end of the bed and I looked inside to find several items of clothing, all old and used.

"The last person who occupied this cot isn't here anymore. You can have what they left."

"What happened to them?" I asked, curious. I wasn't exactly keen on wearing a dead person's clothes.

"Not any of your concern," Dwight retorted, annoyed. He looked my face over. "Don't worry, though, she was marginally hygienic; although fatter than you. You can wash the clothes yourself if you want. In fact, that's one of your assigned jobs. You'll report to the wash and supply room everyday at sunrise and you won't leave until sundown. The others there will get you acquainted with the rules."

"What about bathrooms, meals?"

"Bathrooms are located just outside this common room. You buy the privilege of a meal and shower before and after your shift. Sometimes you have to choose between the two. Same thing goes for toiletries, but I guess I can let you finish up what you've already been using."

"Thanks," I said, hopefully not too sarcastically.

"I'll be back in the morning to show you where to go," Dwight said, a hint of sympathy on his face, or so I thought. "In the meantime, here's your card. One of us Saviors will mark it when you earn points. I've given you five so you can eat."

He held up an index card, five slashes marking the top. I took it from his hand, a feeling of disbelief coming over me. This was what I had to look forward to.

"At least you're not in the cell anymore," I heard him say.

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes. "Thanks."

I stuffed the card in my pocket as he walked off. I looked around, taking in the people and their habits, gauging what to expect as I spent my time here. Many people seemed worn out and haggard, their bodies frail and dirty. Some of them were exchanging their points for small amounts of food or other items while the rest were at their cots, getting ready for bed. The ones who looked healthier and cleaner seemed to either be patrolling or running the stands. It was easy to tell where the differentiation among the ranks lied. Work for Negan and you would want not, unless you were someone he found undesirable. Then he bestowed upon you the gift of hard work with hardly anything in return. Basically, he was a slave master.

I bent over to look at the items contained in the box; just some old clothes and random personal belongings. I spotted a necklace with a golden heart and pulled it out. A name was engraved on the back of the medallion: _Amanda_. I squeezed it in my fist, feeling sorry for whoever it belonged to and let it fall back into the box.

I stood up and looked to the walkways up top, trying to figure this place out and look for any potential opportunities. I turned to my left, eyes scoping for anything interesting when I spotted him staring at me from the shadows. He wore his usual black leather jacket, his beloved baseball bat Lucille propped up against the railing beside him. No one paid him any mind, not knowing he was there, and went about the business that was in front of them.

He had been smiling when I first spotted him, as he usually was, but his smile got wider the longer I stood there and stared back at him. He placed his hands on the railing in front him, bringing his elbows down to lean against it, one foot crossing in front of the other.

I knew I was glaring, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't look away. I stood there, my hands fists at my sides and my emotions a raging boil inside of me. I wanted nothing more than to dig my nails into his skin and rip that fucking smile off of his face.

"Last call before lights out!" I heard a Savior yell.

The sound of people making their way reluctantly to bed broke my concentration and I looked away from Negan. The dim lights that had lit the room began to flicker as a warning and the others began to either settle down or line up for their last chance of the day at the stands. I looked back up to the walkway where Negan was and saw that he was gone.

Sighing in relief, I chastised myself for what I had done and made my way toward a stand that had food. I had just done something I told myself I wasn't going to do anymore. I needed to learn to control myself, especially now since I was out of that room. This would be my chance to get out of here. I just had to find Daryl first.

* * *

 **HIIII! Just wanted to thank those who are following, "favoriting" and leaving me reviews. I appreciate it, and I'm glad you guys are enjoying it so far.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The morning came quickly, the night cold and restless, despite being able to hardly sleep at all. I was awake before the Saviors came in and started rousing people, yelling for us to get up and get ready to work. The sun began to light the room, casting a pink and orange glow. The Saviors didn't turn on the lights, I guess to conserve whatever energy they had.

I pushed away the small blanket that had yielded no warmth all night and sat up, running a hand through my tangled hair. Most of the others had already gotten up to get food or use the bathrooms. I could see a line forming for both already and I stood up to join them.

I had already used two of my points last night for a small dinner; one for a mushy tomato sandwich and another for some water. I decided to use the bathrooms first. I passed by the end of my cot and noticed a small, black bag in the box of the previous owner. Curious, I knelt down to open it and saw the toiletries that I had been using since I got here. I donned a slight smile in surprise. I didn't think Dwight would follow through.

I made my way to the bathrooms and waited for my turn with the other women. Five of us could use it at a time and there were at least twenty bodies in line. There were a lot more people here than I had realized. After I had my chance to use the toilets and clean up a bit, I went to find some breakfast, hoping for enough time before Dwight showed up to put me to work.

With two more points I bought a small bowl of instant oatmeal and some more water. I ate it hungrily on my cot, watching and listening to those around me. I had just finished when I heard him come up behind me, and I turned my head around to meet his gaze.

"You ready?" Dwight asked.

I nodded, and collected my trash.

"Leave it here. The others will come by and clean it up."

I set the plastic bowl and cup on my cot and stood up, facing Dwight. He gave me a look to follow him and I did, not saying a word. I was nervous, unsure of what to expect. Would today be hard? I didn't know. I just hoped I didn't run into any trouble, and I reminded myself with a start to behave and do what was asked of me.

I wanted to ask about Daryl badly. I wanted to know if he was still locked up or was out somewhere in this old factory. I hadn't seen him in the common area, so I worried. Probably more than I had before. Where was he?

"Just so you know," Dwight started, leading me down a long hallway with brightly lit windows, "you could've been out of that cell a lot sooner. Unfortunately, we put your friend to a test and he didn't quite pass it. Your extended stay in that room was his consequence."

He stopped in front of an open door and turned to face me, his eyes now suddenly condescending. I furrowed my brow at him, confused.

"What exactly did he do to affect how I'm treated in here?" I asked.

"He's a hard one to crack. Negan noticed that. Whatever we did to him, he didn't seem to mind much. When your safety came into play, he changed his attitude."

"That's really fucked up," I said, a mean look spreading across my face.

"Yeah, well, if you hadn't noticed already, we aren't exactly the pillars of moral turpitude here. Besides,"-he shrugged his shoulders-"he wasn't thinking much of you anyway when he decided to try to escape. He was going to leave your ass here. It took us reminding him that we had you locked in that room to set him straight. I'd remember that if I were you."

A stab of betrayal went through me, but I tried to remain stoic. I don't think I did such a good job because Dwight was openly smirking at me. Daryl wouldn't have left me here. Not unless he planned on coming back. And would he have come back? Could he have?

"What is your deal?" I asked suddenly. Dwight gave me a look of confusion. "One minute you're cold, blatantly taunting me, and then the next you act like you're sorry for me. You brought me those toiletries even though you didn't have to," I took a step toward him, looking up into his eyes. "You left me alone when you had me by myself drugged and naked in that locker room."

The smirk on his face had vanished as I spoke and was replaced with a look of annoyance. I saw his throat bob up and down as he swallowed and he broke his gaze from mine. He took a step back and looked into the room behind him.

"This is where you'll work from now on. Report here every morning," he said nothing more, but waited for me to move.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, walking forward to discover what the rest of my time here would be like. Inside the room, I saw shelves full of food, clothes, soap, and other assorted items. In the far corner were large totes stacked up to six feet high. Some other workers were already inside, sorting through them and stacking what was inside on shelves, marking down what they sorted. A few Saviors were taking inventory, too.

"Just so you know," I heard Dwight say behind me. I didn't turn around. "You're not exactly my type."

 _Good one_ , I thought as his footsteps receded down the hallway.

* * *

"That girl is stubborn as shit," Negan leaned against the railing, watching Lucille as he lazily swung her in the air beside him.

"Yeah," Dwight replied, watching Negan's face for his reaction. "She's a typical redhead… and a fucking bitch."

Negan looked at Dwight and furrowed his eyebrows in amusement, smiling at him. He looked back down at his bat and grabbed it in both hands, swinging it as hard as he could through the air. Dwight took another sip of his beer, a rare commodity they were allowed to indulge in every once in a while when they had it.

"You know what they say about redheads," Negan said, still toying with Lucille. He looked over his shoulder at Dwight. "Crazy in the head, good in bed."

"I can believe that," Dwight smiled and Negan grinned back. He swung Lucille again, enjoying the sound she made as she cut through the air.

" _Damn_ , it feels good to do that!" He yelled out, leaning back on his heels. He turned to face Dwight and let Lucille touch the floor. "How was she, earlier? Did the bullheaded bitch put up a fight?"

Dwight straightened up and shrugged his shoulder and nodded, "She was fine. I think being holed up in the cell helped. Plus, the pills."

"Yeeaaah, nothing like a good, ole date rape drug to get them all docile and complacent," Negan nodded sarcastically and stuck Lucille out, admiring her. He dropped her back down again and fixed Dwight with a scheming look. "However, she has openly defied me, the way she looks at me. And we aren't giving her anymore pills."

"I think she's just scared of you. I mean, half the time she's seen you she was high as shit, so I don't think we can put too much blame on her," Dwight tried to reason and swallowed uncomfortably. Despite how much she irritated him, he felt sorry for Everly. The position she was in reminded him of someone else he knew; someone he cared deeply about and had let down. Maybe that's where the annoyance came from, knowing she was as helpless as his ex-wife had been, and he was once again left unable to do much about it; that and her catty attitude.

Negan made a face and nodded, like he was really thinking about what Dwight had said.

"Yeah," he replied softly, "except she didn't always look scared and high to me. You gave her only half a pill each time, right?"

Dwight nodded.

"No, she might've been a tiny bit blitzed, but she was fully aware of herself. Shit, she bathed herself, right?! Unless…" Negan gave Dwight a knowing look and pointed Lucille at him. Dwight smiled and shook his head to signal he hadn't touched her inappropriately.

"Good man," Negan patted his back and settled back next to him on the railing. "Still," he continued, "I'm uncomfortable with how she looks at me. It's Prick all over again. What the fuck is with all the people in Alexandria? It's like they _want_ an ass kicking of a lifetime… That's something you would know plenty about, am I right, _Dwwwwight_?"

Dwight looked up to find Negan staring at him with a slow smile spreading across his face. He knew what he was referring to and remembered how the white hot iron stuck to his skin, felt the sear and smelled the steam as he heard his own agonized screams echo in his head. He nodded to his leader and gave a small shrug, "Yeah, but the difference between me and them is I learn from my mistakes. She's been due for a more personalized wake up call."

"Seeing as _you_ have the experience, ya got any ideas?" Negan inquired.

Dwight opened his mouth, but still had nothing to say, feeling slightly humiliated; he fought hard not to show it. He didn't want to suggest anything too harsh and at the same time didn't want to look weak. He shrugged again and shook his head, "I don't know, man. We could give her a way out, like Daryl."

"Nah, I want something new… You think Daryl and her are fucking?"

"Uuuh," Dwight started, unsure how to answer. "I don't know, maybe?"

"Hmmm," Negan mused. "Follow me."

Negan laughed to himself and flipped Lucille up into the air, catching her by the butt-end as she fell. He gave Dwight a wink before pushing off the railing and walking away. Dwight downed the rest of his beer and followed after him.

* * *

The next couple of days were hazy. It was the same thing every day with little sleep, hard work and no end in sight. The only silver linings to be found were the consistent, albeit small, meals I earned and the possibility of seeing Daryl again. I hadn't lost hope in that yet. I knew he was still alive, had to believe it. If he wasn't, if they had killed him, they would have let me know already and tortured me with it.

I tried to ask the others like me if they had seen him, giving his description, but hardly anyone would give me the time of day. If they did, my questioning was fruitless; no one had seen him. I didn't let that weigh me down, though. It was only a matter of time before he showed up.

In the meantime, I continued my silent search of potential ways to escape, observing the routines of everyone around and thinking out logistics. It would be somewhat easy to make it out of the factory, but it would be tricky to make it off of the Sanctuary property; even trickier to make it all the way back to Alexandria without being captured. I was sure our absence would be noticed quickly once we were gone. We would have to hole up in the woods somewhere for a while.

We would also need weapons or at least a way to defend ourselves. I didn't know what shape Daryl was in right now, but I was just starting to get my strength back and I had lost quite a bit of weight. I wasn't even sure I had enough stamina to run very far, let alone outrun Negan, his men and any walkers that lurked outside. It would take some time to get ready, too. Even if I saw Daryl, I would have to make sure he was healthy enough to escape with me. I knew that if I left him, it more than likely would mean not getting him back.

I felt a sharp pain of hurt in my chest, remembering what Dwight had told me about him. How he tried to escape without me, and I had suffered consequences for it. He wouldn't have been able to come back for me either, I had eventually realized. Daryl's escape only ensured his potential safety, but not mine. That's why we had to do it together, so that we both had a chance.

I pushed away any resentment I held against him for that. I know it wasn't fair of me to think that way. If I had had the chance to get out of here without him, I'm sure he would want me to take it. The only difference is that I hadn't; not so far. And I wouldn't do so until I tried to get him out of here, too.

The windows began to darken as I finished folding and sorting the clothes I had washed earlier. I stacked them all in large boxes, picking up one to take to the common area. As I walked, I kept my head down and my eyes sharp. A Savior patrolling the hallway looked in the box I was carrying as I passed by and told me I had fifteen minutes to finish up.

"Better pass out all those clothes soon or might be a lot of people without them tomorrow. I wouldn't mind seeing you without any!" He yelled as I rounded the corner.

I kicked open the door leading into the common area, annoyed, and stopped dead in my tracks when my eyes caught Daryl's. The clatter I made turned heads and I noticed that almost everyone was one their knees.

"Well, there she is, _my_ little fireball!" Negan beamed at me. He had a chain in his hand which led to Daryl's bound wrists.

I took in the sight of him, chained and bruised. He looked like he hadn't showered at all since we had been here and he wore a similar outfit to what Dwight had given me the first time. Simon, Dwight and a few others stood around Negan, alert and watchful. Negan began to strut toward me, yanking Daryl along with him.

"Thought you might wanna catch up with your ole pal here. He _sure_ has been missin' you," he stopped in front of me, "or so I think."

Negan turned to look at a submissive Daryl; the latter's hair stringy and unclean. He looked and smelled awful, and I instantly felt horrible for being angry with him. I could no longer blame him for being desperate enough to leave without me. I shouldn't have in the first place.

"What have you done with him?" I asked mortified.

"Oh, he's not _that_ bad, sweetheart. I've seen and done a lot worse to which the both of you can attest," he winked at me, but then his face suddenly turned serious. He leaned over the box in my arms and spoke to me quietly. "I do think he's a little broken down, though. He doesn't seem"-Negan rolled his eyes up in mock effort to find the perfect word-" _himself_ , if you will. I figured he could use a little fresh air and a familiar face."

My fingers were digging into the sides of the cardboard box and I tried to mask the fury I felt inside. I didn't hold his gaze, trying not to be defiant. Daryl was here and maybe that meant he would stay. I could nurse his wounds and let him use my points for food, wait a few weeks until we both got stronger. Then we could try to get the hell out of here.

"You're looking good, though," Negan straightened back up, looking me up and down. "You've gained some weight back. Tits are filling back in, right, Daryl?"

He yanked Daryl's chain, making him stumble forward. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Everyone had already been forced to stop their usual habits and bend a knee because Negan was here, and now they were all watching this shitshow unfold. Simon stood with his arms crossed over his chest, clearly enjoying every second. Dwight didn't look quite as amused, but looked on intently nonetheless.

"I asked you a question, Daryl. Look at her tits and tell me if you think they're getting bigger," Negan demanded.

Daryl's eyes had been on the ground up until now. He slowly raised them to my face and they stayed there for a second, bloodshot and swollen, before dropping back down. He nodded his head sullenly.

"That wasn't a good enough look," Negan sighed. His hand shot out and smacked the box out of my arms. It fell to the floor with a thump at my feet and Negan grabbed the back of my neck, roughly pulling me forward. I tripped over the box, causing Negan's grip on my neck to tighten, his nails digging into my flesh. I groaned in pain.

"I said look!"

He shoved me in front of Daryl. Daryl was breathing hard through his nose, his mouth a straight line of anger. His gaze stayed on the floor.

" _Look_ ," Negan softly commanded him in a tone that brooked no argument.

Reluctantly, Daryl's eyes drifted upwards and to my chest. They lingered there, his facial expression not changing; it was like he wasn't seeing anything at all. Negan smiled and shook me.

"Well?" Negan inquired.

"Yes," Daryl responded, his voice surprisingly strong.

"Are you sure? It's kind of hard to tell with this baggy t-shirt she's wearing," Negan grabbed the collar of my shirt and started to rip it down.

"Yes!" Daryl called out, distressed.

Negan stopped and grinned, a fake look of disappointment spreading across his face.

"Aaaw," he expressed and let me go.

I took in a several deep breaths, holding back tears that threatened to fall. Negan took a step back and raised his hands, pantomiming that he meant no harm. He turned around and scanned the room, seeing all the scared and wondering faces.

"The fuck are you all looking at!? Back as you were!" He yelled out. Instantly, the others scrambled back to what they were doing, low whispers drifting throughout the room. Negan laughed.

"See how they obey? They've got the right idea!" He pointed his thumb over his shoulder and then flung one arm around me, hugging me close to him.

I cringed inwardly, wanting to shove him away but didn't. I could feel his eyes on my face, but I refused to look up. I was too afraid of what he was going to do next. I could smell him, musky and sweet. It made my stomach churn.

"I have to say, Everly, I'm very impressed with you," he said, his breath fluttering against my hair. "You really have grown since you got here. It didn't take _nearly_ quite as long to break you in as Daryl here, but he's coming along. Maybe next time we'll get more than a preview of what you got under there."

He pinched the collar of my shirt, pulling it out taut and letting it go to flap back to my chest. He squeezed me to his side in a tight hug. I closed my eyes in frustration, a hand involuntarily coming up to his chest to push him away. I caught myself before I pushed too hard.

"Wouldn't you say so, Dwight?"

"She's all right," Dwight answered, sounding bored. Negan nodded and painfully patted my bottom, jarring me.

"I know you're more of an ass man," he said to Dwight and he dropped Daryl's chains with a grizzly smile. He turned to walk out of the room, but spun quickly back around, a finger in the air and his mouth open, ready to speak. He narrowed his eyes at Daryl in a playful way, pointing a gloved finger at him.

"One more thing before I go," he said. "Who are you?"

Daryl tensed up and flitted a glare in Negan's direction before looking back down at the floor. He balled his hands into tight fists and mumbled something I couldn't quite hear.

"Sorry?" Negan asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Daryl," he said louder this time, and slowly brought his eyes up to meet Negan's.

I looked back and forth between the two of them, not sure what was going on but understanding that it was something important and possibly dangerous. Negan's facial expression didn't change with Daryl's response, however, and he let out a chuckle instead, nodding his head. He straightened up and then seemed to consider something.

"Dwight, get him set up somewhere in here," Negan finally said. "Not near the girl. I think they need to keep their distance for a while. At least until emotions aren't running so high," then he turned and walked out, Simon and the others following close behind.

"Sleep well, sugar tits," Simon jeered at me, winking as he passed by. I glared at the floor until they were gone and shifted my glaze to look at Daryl to see he had been looking at me, too.

"This way, Daryl," Dwight said softly. He took the chains and turned, starting to lead him away.

 _I'll get us out of here_ , I mouthed to him. He gave me a look of determination and mouthed back, _Soon_.

* * *

 **Okay, so I am posting this chapter early because I will have a VERY busy day tomorrow and I was afraid I might forget. So, happy early Christmas! Also, in the spirit of the holiday, I will be posting an additional chapter on Christmas Eve. YAY!**

 **I hope you all have a wonderful holiday and stay safe. Thank you, as always, for reviewing, following and adding me as a favorite. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

I lay in my cot unable to fall asleep, tossing and turning constantly. I didn't think I'd ever get a good night's rest here, but tonight was different because instead of being worried and depressed I was too excited and nervous. I wanted to get a move on now, and I was finding it increasingly difficult to stay in bed.

"Move around one more time and I'll cut your throat when you fall asleep!" A tired, angry voice shot out through the darkness.

I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind. I took deep breaths, inhaling slowly to fill my lungs as far as they would go and holding it in. It worked for a moment, I felt myself relaxing, my head clearing, but then I thought about where I was and Daryl. I couldn't stand it anymore.

I opened my eyes and sat up, scanning the cavernous room. I didn't see any Saviors patrolling on the ground or above. I moved my feet to the floor, still searching for any other movements. When I saw none, I stood up and started forward, looking for a form that resembled Daryl's. Half blinded by the darkness, I bumped into a cot.

"What did I say!?" An indignant male voice whispered harshly.

"Mind your own business, you nosy fuck!" I shot back in a loud whisper.

"What the fuck did you just say to me, bitch?"

"Will you both shut the fuck up!?" Another voice rang out a little ways down.

"You shut the fuck up!" The man had turned in the direction of the other person.

I continued forward, weaving farther in between cots as the other two continued to have a whisper pissing war behind me.

"Daryl?" I whispered out, trying not to make too much noise so I wouldn't piss anyone else off or rouse too much attention. "Daryl!?"

I saw a form ten feet in front of me jerk and start to look up. I hurried over and found him there, huddled under a blanket more moth-eaten and dirty than mine.

"Daryl!" I called out in loud whisper and covered his body with my own, hugging him tightly to me. "Daryl, I've been so worried about you."

I started to whimper, wrapping my arms around him as far as they could go. He took in a sharp breath of pain and I pushed away.

"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry," I said between tears. I had forgotten about his wounded shoulder and the possibility that he might have other injuries I couldn't see.

"Come back here," was his reply and he pulled me back to him. He held me fiercely and shushed me, pushing himself to a sitting position. He pushed me back, his hands in my hair, and searched my face. I couldn't stop crying, I was so relieved to know he was truly okay and alive in front of me.

"Listen," he whispered finally, his eyes looking around for Saviors, "you can't be near me. They'll hurt you if they see you with me. I ain't gonna let that happen no more, not after I didn't say his name again. I already failed Glenn and Maggie, Rick and the others. I ain't doing it again."

I shook my head, confused and not believing him, "What happened in that clearing was not your fault. None of us were safe, no matter what we said or did. You have to know that."

"It was, Everly," he sounded defeated. "I've had plenty of time to think about what happened that night, alone and naked in that cell, and I know that Glenn would still be alive if I had just stayed on my knees."

"Don't. You can't do this to yourself, it isn't fair."

"None of this is," his eyes searched mine. "I'm sorry for what I did to you, too."

"You were trying to survive. I know you had a plan; that you and the others would have come back for me."

Daryl's facial expression went from guilty to remorseful. He hands fell from my hair and landed in his lap. He put his head down and shook his head, not looking at me. I stared at him.

"What?" I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

He looked at me and shook his head again, sighing soundly.

"I thought I could do it," he lamented quietly. "I-I tried to look for you, but…I couldn't find you. I would've come back for you."

"And if you couldn't?"

"I would have," he said, a look of certainty on his face, but I wasn't sure I felt the same way. _Stop it_ , I commanded myself.

"It doesn't matter now. You did what you had to and you tried. That's what counts. We're both still here, and we will have our chance to get out of here together soon," I stood up, not knowing how to feel. I turned to make my way back to my cot when Daryl grabbed my hand and pulled me back.

"Please," he begged, looking up at me, "I know I was reckless and you can be mad at me. Hate me even, but don't convince yourself for one second that I don't care about you. I do."

He looked sincere, his eyes becoming wet. His hand crushed mine desperately. I nodded, wanting to believe what he was saying but that persistent pang of abandonment carved at my insides like a knife. His grip loosened as I started to walk away again, but I stopped, something he had said bothering me.

"What did you mean by you didn't say his name again?"

"When he asked me who I was earlier…," he sighed heavily, "A few days ago, he took me to a small apartment, offered it to me, but in exchange I had to say his name. I had to say that I was him. When he asked who I was earlier, that's what he wanted then."

I scrunched my eyebrows together, not understanding, "He wanted you to say you were him?"

He nodded his head to confirm and a shock of anxiety shot through me. Negan was trying to strip Daryl of his identity to make him his. Suddenly, the way the other Saviors claimed to be him made sense; they were all his and we were next in line to drink the juice. I knew if Daryl ever gave in he would be Negan's wholly as soon as his name came out of his mouth; someone as strong and self-governing as Daryl did not give in easily, and I had a feeling I'd be the reason if he ever did.

"Get some rest," I whispered very quietly and left to go back to my cot. I laid down, pensive and scared, and covered myself with the blanket. _When?_ I asked myself and closed my tired eyes. Out of nowhere, the tears came and I cried myself to sleep, never feeling more alone in all the time that I had been here than now.

* * *

The next week was tense. Every time I saw Daryl, his eyes remorseful, a deluge of mixed emotions overtook me. I was both ecstatic and furious when I saw him. I told myself, over and over again like I had a few weeks ago, that it wasn't his fault he tried to leave here without me. The pain was still present nonetheless and growing every day. I guess it was lucky that we weren't allowed to be close to one another; I wasn't sure if I'd punch or hug him, maybe both.

It didn't seem anyone was aware of our little rendezvous the first night he had spent in the common room. I was given dirty looks by the young guy who I had kept awake that night, but he left me alone other than that. It was fortunate that he had started an argument with someone else; otherwise he might would have noticed what I had been up to and told someone. The others didn't seem to care about anyone else's business either as far as I could tell.

Daryl and I started slipping each other notes, giving details on what we had noticed or strategic plans we could follow. I left mine to him folded in his clothes and I always found his to me under my pillow. We were very careful when writing and delivering them. They were always short and to the point, sometimes written in a verse to make it seem like we were writing poetry, one line at a time. It would be a death sentence for us if we were caught.

It seemed we had a few times and places we could meet, but we hadn't agreed on one yet. Having observed the Saviors long enough, I was tired of waiting and wanted to take action, but we had to stay a bit longer until the right moment came and so that Daryl could gather more strength. He had told me about his trip back to Alexandria with Negan and his men, what they had taken from us. All our weapons, guns and ammo gone and stashed somewhere here in the compound. It was up to Daryl to figure out where they were and to form a plan to take some back when we left.

I was nervous every day, trying not to act too jittery when someone spoke to me. I had the incessant feeling that we would be caught any day now; the note under my pillow discovered by someone else other than me. Thankfully, it was pretty common for people of my rank to be nervous and afraid, so I went fairly unnoticed. Still, anxiety kept a vice-like grip on my chest most days until it was time for lights out, then I would snake my hand under my pillow to feel the smooth paper under my fingertips and let out a sigh of relief. It was the best and worst part of my day.

Dwight would come by four times a week to check my bed and box for hidden items or weapons, flipping over and rummaging through each. He never spoke to me anymore unless it was to give me a command and he always wore a mask of disdain when he looked at me. I guess the sensitive side to him was forever gone, but I couldn't say I cared. I wouldn't be here much longer to need to.

I had just dropped off the last load of clothes to the common area when I saw Dwight roaming around and checking people's belongings. I was hoping that he wouldn't stop at my cot, seeing as he just checked it the day before, when he walked up to it and kicked it over. With a surge of panic, I rushed next to the toppled cot, my pillow and blanket sprawled on the floor.

"What're you doing?" I asked.

Dwight looked up at me and scoffed, turning his attention to the cardboard box by his feet. He started grabbing things and throwing them onto the floor. I looked wildly around for any sign of Daryl's note and spotted it on the ground by the cot. Not wanting to draw attention with sudden movements, I sidled my way to stand on top of it, just placing my foot down on it when Dwight stopped and looked up. He had the cardboard box in his hand and he flung it at me.

"Clean this shit up," he demanded.

I caught the box, and waited for him to leave, but he stood there. I looked up at him to see him pointing to the mess he had made all over the floor. _Shit_ , I thought. My mind raced to think of a plan. He would see the note as soon as my foot left it. I started forward slowly, my heart beating thunderously in my chest. Then it clicked. I stepped on the raggedy blanket and pretended to get my foot caught in it. I tripped and flung my foot backward, sending the blanket behind me as I fell on my knees. I heard Dwight laugh out in front of me and few others around the room chuckle.

"Jesus Christ, woman, get up and clean this shit."

Dwight laughed again, shaking his head and walked off. I let out the breath that I had been holding and looked behind me. The blanket was covering the note.

* * *

 **Hey, guys. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Holiday, weekend, or whatever you might celebrate. Have fun reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

We had formed a plan, and thank goodness for that because writing notes back and forth with Daryl was getting tedious. The man was caring, kind, independent, but holy shit he was a horrible writer; he got his point across most of the time, however. We did manage to come up with a course of action good enough to hopefully get us out of here sans discovery; or at least for a while. We had agreed not to go back Alexandria right off the bat, but instead head in the opposite direction. Perhaps go to Hilltop, but I wasn't so sure that would be a good idea either. The Saviors could always look for us there, too, and it was a possibility they could find us accidentally while on a supply run.

The thing was that we really had nowhere to go. Any new settlement we might find would not be loyal to us, they wouldn't even know us to be able to be in the first place, and there was no guarantee that they weren't a tributary state for the Sanctuary already. They might sell us out as soon as we walked within their sights with no questions asked; it would be to anyone's benefit to do so, and I can't say I could blame anyone otherwise. Regardless, we had a plan which fit Daryl more than me, and it was to live off the land like wayfarers, circling south and then east to eventually journey back around toward Alexandria. I couldn't say I was too excited about it; he liked being errant, drifting from place to place, while I personally enjoyed the comfort of something more permanent, but it would sure as hell beat living here. We just had to steam out a few minor details and then we'd be set.

 _It's been almost three damn weeks_ , I thought in agitation.

It was for the best though. Three weeks had given Daryl and me plenty of time to heal and regain our strength. It also provided us with plenty of study time, learning the ins and outs of this place. Granted, our ventures within the Sanctuary walls were limited; we weren't the most trustworthy people here in the eyes of the Saviors, but we had discovered enough to get what we needed.

Our plan was fairly simple, really. We would wait until nightfall and, using the darkness to our advantage, we'd sneak outside separately to a meeting spot near the southern-most watch post. By the time I would get there, Daryl will have already incapacitated the guarding Saviors, taking their weapons. I wasn't sure how he was going to do it, but his experience as a tracker and hunter ensured his stealth; I fervently hoped he could take a couple Saviors out discreetly and quickly as well. Also, within this particular post were an abundance of weapons; Daryl had caught more than one glance of them during his time outside as walker herder. We both cheekily thanked Negan for that.

It was getting outside of the fence that encircled the compound that was going to be the hardest part in my opinion. There was only one way out to the world beyond which was so heavily watched that we'd have no chance going through there, so we're going to have to make our own way and cut a hole in the fence somewhere. It didn't help, either, that the entire factory was surrounded by shackled walkers. Negan might be a psychotic fuck, but he was smart enough to fortify his dwelling place with the best possible security he could get his hands on. Not only did it certify that any invaders would have a difficult time trespassing onto the property, it also ensured that the walking dead, solitary or as a herd, wouldn't come sniffing around too closely. It worked to eliminate human error as well; all the walkers had to do was snarl and hiss like a damn ringing bell to alert the guards someone was nearby. Negan had really built an empire here. I could only wonder what would be the catalyst to help bring it down; if it could be brought down at all.

 _We can make it, though_ , I chanted in my head. _We have to. We **have** to._

Only one more night and we would be out of here. My heart leapt in excited uneasiness every time I thought about it. It was so brazen and dangerous, yet I felt such a strong sense of… _capability_. It was like I finally had a say on what happened in my life after weeks of other people making decisions for me and telling me what to do, what to eat, when to sleep, when to bathe myself... I was getting my life back and nothing was going to keep me from it any longer. Keep _us_ from it any longer.

"Hey, you," an unfamiliar voice called from behind me.

I turned my head to see a man slightly younger than me. Sunlight blended in with his golden locks and his gray eyes were like ice. I hadn't seen him before, but he carried a gun and his clothes looked new or, at the very least, gently used.

"Uh, yeah?" I asked.

"What're you doing over here?" He said, taking a look at my setup. I had various items placed on the floor around me, sorting them by item, usefulness and priority.

"I'm just…doing my job," I said unsurely. My process had only been questioned once before when I first started, but typically the Saviors would leave me to it unless they were feeling particularly prickly. I guess this was one of those times.

"It looks like you're making a fucking mess," he responded haughtily. He took a stride forward to swipe at all the carefully organized items with his foot, scattering them all across the floor around me. He quirked his lips up while mine turned down into a scowl. "Seems to me like you'll be working some overtime tonight. I wouldn't be expecting any extra points for it, either. Think of it as character building. Now back to work, peon."

He kicked a bottle of soap across the floor to skim deep underneath a block of shelves and walked off with a laugh. With a sigh, I threw down the pen and paper in my hand and crawled over to where the bottle went. I had to get down on my stomach to see it and it was too far away for me to reach, my shoulder digging into the metal as I strained for it.

"Fucking brilliant, you frat boy fuck," I whispered to myself angrily and slapped my hand against the concrete floor.

"Hold on!" I heard a voice say from across the shelf. Next thing, a broom shot under the opposite side of the shelves, pushing the bottle up to my hand. "There you go."

"Oh, thanks," I said surprised. I pulled the bottle out and sat up to look across the shelves at the only true savior present in this room. It was an older woman, one I had seen many times around here and in the common area, but had never spoken to before. She smiled kindly at me.

"No worries, honey. We degenerates gotta stick together here if we're gonna keep our wits about us. I'm Suzanne."

"Everly," I said as I calculated her. She had to be in her sixties and she was a bit portly, but clearly agile for her age and weight.

"I can help you get all that stuff back together. It shouldn't be too hard since you've marked most of that stuff down, right?" She asked and I answered with a nod.

I stood up as she made her way around the shelves and met her at the spot I was at before. Without a word, she began to sweep the items back into my area and I sat down to set them all back up. Pretty soon, she was down next to me, organizing and checking my list as she did so. I gave her a heedful look.

"You're awfully helpful to someone you don't even know," I said, placing a can of sweet corn in a pile.

"And you're awfully accepting of the help of someone you don't even know," she retorted with a sweet smile. I snorted at her response and raised my eyebrows in agreement.

"Can't disagree with that," I replied, "but why? What do you get out of it but extra time in here?"

"The company of someone who desperately needed it just as much as me," she placed an armful of items to her right, straightening them up neatly. "It gets rather lonely and boring in here, talking to no one and doing the same damn thing day in and day out."

I nodded, once again finding nothing wrong with her logic. Why hadn't we talked sooner? She seemed kind and normal even if I still didn't trust her as far as I could throw her. Then again, I didn't trust anyone in this shithole.

"Well, I appreciate the help even if it wasn't entirely a selfless sacrifice on your part," I said with a small laugh.

"Eh," she said with light titter and a shrug, "you remind me of a granddaughter a bit. I might not would have cared otherwise, but you seem okay enough for me to like. You held your own well against that Savior; you played it smart. Much like Alyssa would have."

"Is she here with you?" I asked absentmindedly.

"Oh, no," she shook her head, the smile falling from her face. "She didn't make it very far after the outbreak."

"Oh…" I let my hand drop to my lap, feeling like an idiot. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I've come to accept it. It's only me here," she finished. The wrinkles in her face became deeper as the genuine humor she had before faded away.

"Well, it doesn't have to be just you. I can be okay, most of the time, and my friend Daryl is an okay guy, but he mostly just grunts a lot."

She looked up at me with a start and laughed, her features brightening up again. I joined her even though I felt bad for lying; we wouldn't have any time to get to know each other more. A Savior behind us cleared his throat and we stopped the best we could, a few chuckles trailing out here and there.

"I'm glad I could help you out, Everly," she said as she stacked the last of the scattered items on her side. She was quick. "And don't worry about baby kiss ass over there. He's only acting like a tough guy because he just got "promoted" as a Savior."

"I knew I hadn't seen him around before or at least not patrolling."

"It was just a week ago that he was in the common room with us. He hasn't been here that long, so I guess you could say he's moving on up pretty quickly," she said as she smoothed out her shirt and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well, at least he didn't hit on me. He's got that going for him, I suppose," I said as I fiddled with a can of shaving cream.

"I'd say enjoy it while it lasts, but…" she trailed off and shrugged her shoulders. I knew what she meant. It wasn't as fun to get hit on when every person who did so was an absolute creep. "But just so you know, I've noticed him around you a lot, watching you. I don't know if you have, but I thought you should be aware. I've been here long enough to get that most of the men here aren't pushy, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened before. Just be careful."

I took in her advice, trying to remember if I had ever seen him before and where. Had he been following and watching me? I couldn't recall. He hadn't seemed familiar earlier, but now that I thought more about it he sorted seemed to be. I needed to be more alert, especially in light of what was happening tomorrow night.

"Thank you, Suzanne. I will," I smiled at her.

She patted my shoulder, using it to help her stand up.

"Old knees," she whispered to me with a wink and smiled as she walked off.

I looked over my shoulder, searching for the asshole frat boy. I spotted him across the far side of the room, leaning against the wall and staring at me. I sat straight up, not expecting him to be looking right at me despite Suzanne's warning.

 _Dammit_ , I thought as I quickly looked away from him. She was right, and I needed to let Daryl know. Escaping tomorrow night suddenly became a whole lot trickier.

* * *

I didn't see Daryl in the common area when I finally made it back. I only had to work an extra hour more than usual which I considered a feat after frat boy's snarky comment to me earlier. He kept an eye on me the entire evening, sauntering over to bend over me as I worked, but not say anything else to me. He must've been bored or was trying to distract me from my work, but either way I got shit done. I was going to give him a cheeky smile to boot as I left, but I couldn't spot him anywhere as I made my way out.

I decided I needed a shower badly, but first I wanted to check if Daryl had left me a note. I walked over to my cot, sitting down as I ran a hand through my hair. I leaned back, feigning exhaustion, and let out a wide yawn as my hand slipped under my pillow. There! I felt it and crushed it in my hand.

I shoved my hands in my pockets as I stood up and cast my eyes around as I began to leave the room. My roaming eyes caught a svelte woman on a walkway above, her shoulder length, brown hair covering her face as she observed us all below. I had stopped walking with a jolt, thinking at first it was Negan, and anxiety coursed through me like the thumping of a drum as I began to relax. I had nearly pissed my pants.

I squinted my eyes, trying to see her face more clearly. I hadn't seen her around here before, and she was nicely dressed. She had to be higher rank, but who was she? She turned her head, seeming to be searching for someone, her brow furrowed in concentration. I wondered who she was looking for when her eyes met mine and she stopped, her hand gripping onto the railing in front of her tightly.

 _Oh shit, this can't be a coincidence, can it?_ I asked myself as I dropped her gaze and continued briskly out of the room. Why was I being sought after so much? Was Daryl experiencing the same thing? Had anyone found out about the notes? My eyes widened at the idea, but no. We would've been hamburger meat by now, as Simon had so eloquently put it before, if that were the case. No. We _were_ getting out of here.

 _But what is going on?_ I continued to wonder.

 _Who cares?_ The dismissive side of me wanted to argue. _You won't be here much longer for it to matter anyway._

 _Right,_ I tried to reassure myself. _Right…?_

* * *

 **This is pretty much a filler chapter, so I wanted to get it out of the way. The next few chapters are going to be ACTION PACKED *background explosion noises* so I thought, "Why not get it out of the way!?" So here ya go! (This chapter does hold a little bit of significance, even if it's not that exciting.)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

I didn't read the note right away despite the anxiety of wanting to know what it said ripping me to shreds. Instead, I let it burn a hole in my pocket as I hastily made my way to the women's washroom. I was antsy to know what it said and wouldn't dare read it where someone could see me. I still had my nightly rituals to go through, and I wanted that shower and dinner before lights were out. I rushed up to the locker room door, thankful there wasn't a line, and shoved my card in the Saviors face.

"Twenty points," she said, taking the card.

"What? Why? It's always ten," I said confused.

"Ten for the shower and ten more for being rude. You have _twenty_ minutes," she said with a sarcastic smile as she hole-punched my card and shoved it back in my face. I grabbed it out of her hand, my sour mood becoming sourer and wishing for her to get carpal tunnel.

I went inside and got set up, not paying attention to the few others that occupied the room as well. I stepped out of my clothes being sure to hide the note in my hand as I got into the shower and drew the curtain behind me.

In the steam that rose around me, I unfolded the note and read it. I furrowed my brow in confusion and read it again.

"What?" I asked out loud.

It didn't make any sense and I got a feeling of trepidation deep in my gut. I read it for a third time:

" _What is made of steel and closed in on all sides? Is easy to get into, but hard to get out of?"_

It was a riddle. Daryl hadn't given me a riddle before and it was probably the most articulate thing he had written yet. But what was he trying to say? What message was he sending; it's easy to get into, but hard to get out of? Was he saying we were stuck here? That couldn't be. His last note had confirmed our way out of here. It must be something else.

I crumpled the note as I heard laughter echo behind me. I stood under the tepid water and let the thin paper get soggy, ripping it up as it dissolved. I watched it flow down the drain, helping the stubborn pieces go down with a flick of my foot. I quickly showered after and scrubbing myself hard, still contemplating what I had read.

I wrapped a towel around myself and rung out my hair. Stepping out of the stall, I looked for my clothes I had left in a pile on the floor and noticed them neatly folded by my toiletry bag.

"Sorry," a woman's voice called out. I looked up and to my left to see the same pretty brunette woman from earlier looking at her face closely in a mirror. Her reflected eyes found mine. "I can't stand a mess."

"Oh," I looked away. I wasn't sure what to say or do. "I guess I don't mind either way."

She turned around to face me, looking me over; her facial expression thoughtful. I grabbed my clothes and gave her a curious look. She smiled and it seemed forced.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked.

I shook my head and shrugged. She nodded her head and looked down at her feet, her high heeled sandals leaving streaks through the condensation on the floor. She looked back at me and crossed her arms, her hands holding each elbow.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Us harlots don't venture out too much," her voice was bitter. "I'm Sherry."

"Nice to meet you," I replied, feeling more and more confused and awkward by the second. _What the fuck is going on?_

"I don't mean to barge in on your personal time, I was just curious."

"About?"

"You," she stated matter-of-factly.

"What's curious about me?" The message on the note flashed in my head. I was beginning to get nervous.

"Nothing," she gave me a searching look. "Just be careful. Like I told Daryl, I don't think you realize who you're dealing with. I didn't."

"What? Wait, you know Daryl?" I asked even more confused now.

But she pushed off the sink she had been leaning on and headed out the door, the clicking of her heels fading as she walked away.

"Hey! How do you know Daryl?" I called after her stupidly. She was already gone.

What she had said sounded awfully like a warning and the only assumption that could be made was that it was about Negan. What was she to him, though? She didn't talk like she was his lover, but I could be inferring wrong. Negan wasn't exactly a lovable guy, but I'm sure he had a woman; or women, from the sound of it.

I took a moment more to process what happened before concentrating on getting fresh clothes on, straightening myself up and gathering my things. I had spent too much time in here already. Out in the hallway, I hurried toward the common area, hoping I had just enough time for a quick meal before bed. I was going to look for Daryl, too, and ask him what the hell he was playing at, sending me a vague message that I couldn't understand. _If it was even his message_ , I thought with a start.

As I rounded the corner I let out a shriek, Negan's disappointed face inches away from my own. The stuff in my arms clattered to the floor as I stood there motionless, caught like a deer in headlights. _He knows._

"Did you ever figure out the answer to that riddle?" He asked as his brows furrowed in question, his shoulder leaning against the wall.

With wide eyes, I stared at him unsure of what to do. I couldn't draw in air. A tiny sound escaped my throat, but otherwise I made no noise. I was paralyzed in fear.

"It's kind of a tough one," he said, his placid brown eyes taking in my fear. "What is made of steel and closed in on all sides? Is easy to get into, but hard to get out of?" He raised his eyebrows. "Can you take a guess?"

I felt the water from my hair dripping down my back and on my chest. I was afraid to answer, not even sure I could speak. I felt adrenaline coursing through me, but my body was starting to feel weak. I was having a panic attack.

"Let me give you a hint," he scowled.

The next second, he had by my hair, twisting it in his hand. I yelled out in pain as he yanked me forward, his nose touching mine. The look he gave me was pure evil and he sneered, "Let's go see Daryl."

He dragged me down several corridors, a tenacious grip on my arm. I was sobbing now, unable to control it from the sheer terror that flooded my body. I felt like a child, this feeling all too familiar to me. It was one thing to survive a zombie apocalypse; zombies were slow, stupid and uncalculating. It was a whole other experience to be victim to the capacity of inhibited human evil; even if I was a well-seasoned acquaintance with it.

He finally walked through a doorway and shoved me on the ground. I landed on my hands, barely catching myself before my face hit the floor; sharp pains shot from my hands and up my arms. I stayed there, my forehead against the concrete floor, and cried. Footsteps resounded in the room and I heard what sounded like a struggle, metal clanging against metal. Negan's footsteps stopped by my head.

He grabbed me by the back of my shirt and yanked me up on my knees. Negan's Saviors were standing around the room, looking down at me in an amused, condescending way. In front of me, I saw what the riddle had meant. _A cage_ , I thought bitterly. I felt like throwing up.

"There it is, sweetheart. There's your fucking hint, or rather your answer. I guess I kinda ruined it for you, huh?" He let go of my shirt and took a step back, watching my reaction.

In front of me was Daryl, fresh blood covered his face to the point that I couldn't tell where his wounds were at. He was locked in a cage, sturdier and larger than one for a dog; this one was built to hold something strong and keep it in there. He swayed back and forth on his hands and knees, his wrists bound together with rope.

I didn't say or do anything other than stare at Daryl, agony a pounding fist in my stomach. _This is all my fault_ , I thought harshly. How had he found out? What was he going to do to us? I knew that there would be no going back from what was about to happen. We had been caught red-handed, and the consequences were not going to be light.

"Here's another one for you guys! What do you do with a feral animal that _just won't_ let himself be broken in?" Negan put his hands on his knees and bent over to look me in face, searching for an answer. When I gave none, he gave out a hushed, lingering laugh.

He looked over his shoulder at Daryl who was hunched and shaking on his hands and knees, his blood a smeared and sticky mess on the bottom of the cage. His smile widened.

"How about this one?" He asked as he turned back to me. "Who can only stand up to all fours and is red, black and blue all over…?"

He looked at me for a moment, waiting vainly again for me to answer him. I didn't say a damn thing. I wasn't going to play this sadistic game with him. Just as Daryl wouldn't give him what he wanted by saying his name, I wouldn't either.

"Aw, come on," he pressed. "I know you know the answer. It's right fucking _there_!" Negan gestured to Daryl inside of the cage and laughed, standing back up. He threw his hands up in the air, "You guys make this shit _too_ fucking easy. I'm having fun!"

"We-we're sorry," I started, trying to figure a way out of this, but there wasn't one.

"Oh, no," Negan said. "See, I've already explained the rules to you two and you both know you've royally screwed the pooch left, right and ass-backwards. I can see it all over your sorry ass, pitiful faces."

I looked at the floor, blinded by fresh tears. I could feel death nearby. We had barely lasted a damn month and a half in this place, but it was longer than I had initially thought we would. _That has to count for something right?_ I briefly thought before sorrow pierced my heart at knowing that everything leading up to this moment had been lost. We had survived through so much and had found sanctuary at last with those we cared about. It was ironic that we would die in a place named for something that we had searched for, for so long; named for something it didn't provide.

"Alright, here's another one, and it's not really a riddle, but still an important question nonetheless," Negan broke me from my mourning and took a sudden step up to the cage to kick it hard. Daryl flinched backward. "What happens when you conspire to steal _my_ motherfucking guns and run off with them?"

Daryl made a low growling noise in response. Negan didn't wait for an answer, but stomped over to me and grabbed me by the back of the neck. He lifted me up effortlessly and dragged me up to the cage, slamming me down hard back on my knees.

"You get locked in a motherfucking cage like the piece of thieving shit that you are!" He screamed at us and kicked the cage again. "I own you! You. Are. Mine!"

He let go of me and took a step back to take in a deep breath. I didn't look at him, but kept my eyes forward, not seeing a thing. Pain radiated throughout my legs, my knees were aching horribly and I continued to cry silently. Negan stepped back up beside me and squatted down, his face close to mine.

"This last one's for you, Everly, and sorry I'm not a better fucking riddler, so I'll just cut the bullshit and ask it as plainly as I can… How long do you think he'll last in there when he's not treated like a human being anymore?"

Rage suddenly boiled up in me, hot and pressing. I couldn't hold myself back any longer; couldn't have if I tried. I looked over at Negan and spat in his face. It hit him square in his eye.

"Fuck you," I hissed through my teeth. "It should be you in there!"

What followed could only be described as an eerie silence. Absolutely no one moved. The shock at what I just did was thick in the air and I felt a jolt of fear tear through my stomach, slicing through the anger. Negan slowly brought a hand up to his face and wiped away my saliva with an irate smirk.

We started at each other, hatred clear in both of our eyes. I was drawing in ragged breaths, my heart tripping over itself to keep up. Negan looked as calm a provoked snake, coiled and ready to strike. I readied myself, too. I wasn't going down without a fight. I was just thankful he hadn't thought to bring Lucille along with him.

"Simon," Negan spoke, his voice steady and his eyes still burning into mine.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"What was it that you used on Daryl over there?"

"Uh, just regular elbow grease. Nothing fancy."

"Well, do me a favor there, bud, and find me something fancy," Negan's lips twitched down and Simon disappeared.

"No," Daryl mumbled out through swollen lips. "I'll take it. Not her."

" _You_ ," Negan yelled, turning his head to address Daryl, "are not in the position to say no to me!"

Simon came back into view, holding a thick metal pipe, "How's this?"

Negan looked and nodded, seeming satisfied. He stood up and walked over to him, holding out his hand and Simon handed it over. Negan turned back to face me and used the pipe to smack his hand; the sharp whipping sound it made had my muscles clenching in apprehension. He shook his hand and made a fake pained face, circling me.

"Oh man. I am _so_ going to enjoy this after what you just did," a smile graced his face again, his usual good spirits back. Unexpectedly, he moved, raising the pipe up in the air and lunging forward like he was going to hit me. I flinched, falling back on my bottom, hands braced behind myself. His smiled widened and he laughed, continuing to slowly circle me; him the predator and me his prey.

"Yeah, I knew I was gonna like you," he pointed the pipe at my face. "Remember what you said in that clearing after I got done bashing your friends' fucking brains in? You said, _you're a fucking bastard!"_ Negan called out in an attempt to mock me, his voice high and ridiculous. His lackeys laughed out and he laughed with them.

"Damn, little girl," he continued, smiling all the while, "you have _no_ _goddamn idea_ just how much of a fucking bastard I can be."

And the pipe swung down, barely missing me as I flung myself to the side, panting with fear. It clanged on the hard floor with a thunderous crack and I rolled away from Negan as he reared up to swing again.

I cried out as I felt it cut through the air, barely missing the back of my head. I ducked down and scrambled backwards, turning to keep my eyes and body facing him. I kicked my foot up as he swung at me again, catching the pipe at an awkward angle. Pain seared through my ankle where it had hit me and I screamed.

"Ooooh ho ho!" Negan cheered. He was enjoying himself immensely. "Little kitty has come out to play!"

I pushed myself back some more, my right foot limp and useless now. I was sweating, my palms slick against the concrete floor. I kept slipping as Negan slowly advanced on me. He liked watching me struggle, liked seeing me desperate and scared.

He swung again, downward this time, as my back hit someone's legs. I parted my own as the pipe came down, just missing my left knee. He was trying to incapacitate me, perhaps break my legs even. I wouldn't be able to do much of anything if I couldn't walk, much less escape. It would be completely over for me then if it wasn't already.

"Stop! Stop!" I screamed frantically, holding my hand out to him as the pipe soared behind his back, ready to strike again. "Stop, I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll do-do what you want. I'm sorry."

Negan was breathing heavily and still smiling. He had frozen in place as I begged him for mercy and he watched me with delight. He let his arms drop to his sides, the pipe swinging back and forth in his hand, just as dangerous as Lucille. He flicked out his hands and shrugged, turning the corners of his mouth down in a thoughtful expression.

"Okay, alright. I'll stop," he said and the pipe fell to the floor with a tumultuous clamor. Negan wiped his mouth, sweat beading his brow, and let out an expressed sigh of fatigue. "Whew!"

He chuckled as my fervent heartbeat began to slow a little. I brought my shaking hand down to the floor and pushed myself into an upright position, my legs tremoring with adrenaline.

"But you know"-Negan shrugged again, gazing down at me with half-lidded eyes-"I don't think I heard you say please… Arat!"

A tall, olive skinned woman stepped up next to him. She wore leather from top to bottom as well as a snarl on her face.

"Everly, Arat. Arat, Everly," Negan introduced us, gesturing to us in turn with his gloved hand. "Now, I know I really got your motor running, swinging that lead pipe around, but I swear I was just fucking with you. I wasn't _really_ gonna bash your head in," Negan said defensively, putting a hand to his chest and furrowing his eyebrows with a smile. He turned to Arat and put his gloved hand on her shoulder.

"I'm not much of a believer in men hitting women unless they absolutely have to and while you were a real gutter cunt for spitting in my face, I'm not going to be the kind of man to beat down a woman just for that. I _do_ have morals. Your ankle,"-he pointed to my lame right foot-" _you_ did that. However, I am running this shit parade, and you and your bumpkin friend have gone and made a _big fucking mistake_. I can't let that slide, no way," Negan shook his head and licked his bottom lip pensively.

"Instead," he continued, "I think Arat here will do the dirty work for me. That way I can sleep just a tiny bit easier tonight, but quite frankly, most nights I'm out like-" he snapped his fingers to indicate he had no qualms with who he was or what he did; he slept just fine every night. I shivered in a mix between fear and anger.

"So! Without further ado," Negan turned his smiling face to Arat. She returned his happy expression with a twist of her lips that somewhat resembled a grin, but it looked like her mouth got confused on the way up, turning her smile into a contorted, ugly mess. I wasn't sure if it was because of him or me, but when she aimed loathsome eyes my way, I knew then. She walked back and forth dilatorily in front of me.

"You know, I've heard a little bit about you. You've just about got every person in this compound sniffing after you, but I guess that's fairly typical whenever there's fresh meat around. Don't feel too special, it won't last."

 _That's fucking reassuring_ , I thought. My nails slowly began to cut into my palms as she carried on.

"I do have to say, though, that I'm not gay and even I'm trying to picture what you look like under those ratchet ass clothes," she taunted and stopped pacing to stand a few feet in front of me. "I bet you were a wet dream a couple of years ago, huh? A real stuck up bitch who thought her pussy was too good for most. I bet you still do," she said as some Saviors let out snorts. She put her hands on her knees to bend over, her spiteful eyes becoming level with mine.

"Don't worry your cute little button nose," she reached out and flicked the tip of my nose. "You'll still be a fucking Betty by the time we're done with you."

Before I could react, I heard a feminine scream from behind and felt a strong force hit me in the side. I fell over, gasping for air but unable to draw anything in; hot, aching pain clawing my insides. I was hit again, this time in the stomach by Arat. The force of her kick lifted me up to my hands and knees, causing me double over in pain I had never felt before. I couldn't take in a breath and I started to panic, my throat convulsing with the effort to draw in.

The hits kept coming, merciless and powerful. They crashed into me greedily in their rage, their teeth barred and their taunts frenzied; I was their outlet. It didn't last long, but it was enough to make me realize once again how defenseless I was. I lay on my stomach for a while after they had stopped, bruised, bloody and aching. My burning, wet eyes were on Daryl who was sobbing uncontrollably, his swollen hands gripping the cage bars.

I felt the cool air stir around me as Negan knelt by my head. He stroked my hair, pushing it back from my face in a loving, tender way; his fingers warm and callused. He put his hands under my armpits and lifted me up like a rag doll, my body limp from exhaustion and pain, and pivoted me around to cradle me like a child, his arms strong and oddly comforting.

He looked down at me, his face gravely serious now. Any merriment he might have felt while watching his girls beat me was no longer present on his face. He ran a hand through my hair again, looking over my defeated face, battered and wet with blood. A small smile turned up the corner of his lips, but it didn't seem malicious now. It almost looked affectionate.

* * *

 **OH SHIT, Y'ALL! This was pretty intense to write about a month ago, but I've reread and revised it about 100 damn times that it's lost its luster for me. Please let me know your reaction to this! I'm very curious to see how you guys have perceived it.**

 **And damn Everly and Daryl! Getting into trouble, bending the rules. You'd think they would have learned by now, huh? That'd be no fun, though... :D**

 **Truth be told, I _did not_ think this story would be as long as I've written it so far. I thought maybe about 20 chapters, but I'm nearly there and I'm not even halfway through the story! A lot of shit is going to be happening from now on. I may have a dull chapter here and there, but it's all building up to a head. It's gonna be crazy, y'all! I hope you're prepaaaaared! (And I hope I'm not hyping myself, and you guys, up too much on this, ah ha...) **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

He had locked me in the cell again, but not the same one. This room had no window and nothing to offer but the desolate, silent darkness; the only light to be had seeping in from the hallway underneath the door. It had been a couple of days since they had beaten and locked me in here. I thought for sure Negan was going to let them kill me, be beaten to death like Abraham and Glenn, but he hadn't. Although, I don't think I had been far from it.

"No painkillers! Negan wants her to feel everything," I could hear Dwight's voice outside the door.

From where I lay, I saw shadows silhouetted against the wan light at the bottom of the doorway and heard an older man's unfamiliar voice telling Dwight that he would do what he needed to. The lock clicked and the door opened. A short, thin man took a step inside, assessing me from the door way. He looked back at Dwight who in return gave him a menacing stare. Stepping in, the man set down a bag next to me and got on one knee, giving me a benign smile.

"Everly?" He spoke gently, his voice deep and smooth. "I'm Dr. Emerson Avery. I'm one of the doctors that live here at the Sanctuary. Do you mind if I look you over?"

He looked so kind, but I didn't trust him. I struggled to sit up and pushed myself back into a corner, wincing from the pain as I did so. I didn't want him or anyone else to touch me. He seemed disappointed, his dark eyes thoughtful and sad. He nodded and reached for his bag, squatting down to open it up. I flinched.

"I'm just going to show you what I have. You don't need to be afraid of me. I want to make you better," he said in a calm, placating tone.

He reached into his bag slowly, watching me to gauge my reaction. One at a time, he took out and held up ace bandages, gauze, rubbing alcohol, iodine, and a small bottle of pills which he slipped out from under a swathe of cotton dressings, careful to not let them rattle. I sized him up, trying to see if this was another test from Negan, but it was impossible to be sure. I gave him a small nod because at this point, what did it matter?

The doctor let out a breath and smiled, "Good."

He placed all the items back into his bag, being careful not to let anything touch the dirty floor. He sidled over to me awkwardly, still down in a squat, and showed me his hands in a sign that he meant well. He pointed to my soiled shirt, indicating that he'd need to remove it. I nodded again. Gingerly, I sat up and let him lift the shirt over my head. He placed a warm, steadying hand on my back as I got dizzy and swayed backwards.

"Whoa," he said, concerned, "let's take it easy now."

"I'm trying," I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper. My throat was intensely sore from screaming.

"I would suggest not talking either. Sounds like you've bruised your vocal chords quite a bit."

I didn't say anymore, but let him take in and evaluate the damage that had been done to me. A few times, he clicked his tongue and shook his head in clear disgust, his fingers prodding me all over. Finally, he let out a long sigh and grabbed the ace bandages.

"You have a few broken ribs," he said. "I'm going to need to wrap you up, but first you'll need to remove your bra. I will have to see you," he paused, looking me in the eye to see if I understood. "Will that be okay?"

I could only nod, starting to shake and feeling vulnerable. He placed his hand lightly on my shoulder and nodded before helping me to remove my bra. I could feel Dwight's eyes on me from the doorway, silent and watchful.

When he was done, he moved to the ankle that Negan had hit with the pipe, "I don't think it's broken, but it's at the very least severely bruised and sprained. The best I can do is to wrap it up."

And he did, his dark hands deft and shrewd. I decided that I liked him, for now. He was the first breath of fresh air I had gotten in this placed besides Suzanne. I just prayed that he wasn't a snake in the grass.

"This part will probably be the most painful," he explained as he got out some cotton balls and doused them with alcohol, "but I need to clean these cuts up. Try not to make any noise. You don't want to hurt your throat any further."

I clenched my hands into fists, breathing hard against the pain as he cleaned me up. It took a lot of effort, but I only cried out a couple of times, mostly uttering pathetic whimpers. I began to relax as he finished, covering the larger wounds with iodine.

"Try not to lie on the floor. I can't cover everything up, and I don't want you to get an infection," he pulled out a fresh, white t-shirt and tugged it over my head. "This should feel better."

"Thank you," I mouthed more than said. He nodded his head, giving me a sorry smile and took my hand.

"I'll check in on you later," he said knowingly and I felt something small pressed into my hand from his. He stood up and gathered his things, stepping past Dwight and into the hallway.

* * *

The painkiller Dr. Avery had secretly given me helped. Although it didn't quite eliminate every ache, it certainly dulled it quite a bit and I had slept a little bit more soundly. I was sorry he hadn't given me more when it started to wear off, the pain fresh and unabatingly earnest again. He hadn't come back to check up on me. That worried me some, but maybe there wasn't much more he could do.

The same routine as before started back; nothing but a small cheese sandwich again and a bit of water to satisfy my hunger and thirst. No shower, though. I guess they wanted to make me as uncomfortable as possible and it was working. I was grimy, still covered in my own blood, and I was miserable.

Five days. I had been in here for five days and I felt myself going mad. The darkness was pressing in on me and time seemed to move not at all. I only knew how long it been because Dwight enjoyed making me aware of it every time he saw me.

 _"The end to another day!" He chucked my daily meal at me. "Five days down, many more to go."_

I teemed with anger at the memory. Dwight had started out different. He had seemed somewhat sympathetic at times before. Now, he was just a second-rate Negan; not nearly as intimidating, but it was obvious he tried to be. I don't know what happened to change him, to make him so callous towards me when he had at least been decent before. Now it seemed he hated me and for what reason I didn't know. That was why it was hard to trust the doctor at first, but he seemed so genuine it was hard not to.

I wondered about Daryl and what they were doing or had done with him. It was possible he was still locked in the cage, trapped with barely any room to stretch out. I couldn't help but think that maybe I had gotten the better end of things. Granted, we both had our asses kicked and were confined to a small space, but mine just happened to be quite a bit bigger.

How had they found out about us? We were so careful, scrawling down our notes to each other in private, no one around to see. Sometimes, I would even have a hard time deciphering what Daryl had written, his handwriting was so sloppy. There was no answer, though, and I might never get the chance to ask.

 _What's going to come next?_ I thought. _What more could they possibly do?_

I feel asleep trying to figure out the answer.

* * *

"Up and at 'em!" Negan yelled into the small room, the door hitting the adjacent wall from where he had swung it open.

The small heap on the floor jerked up, long, dark red hair framing a bruised and tired face. She squinted her eyes and brought one slender hand up to shield herself from the light coming in from behind them. When she didn't move, Negan sighed and stepped in, grabbing a hold of her arm and wrenching her up from the floor. She cried out in pain.

"I said," Negan got in her face, " _let's go_."

He let her glare at him with her emerald eyes for a second before shoving her out into the hallway where Dwight caught a hold off her, steadying her on her feet. She hobbled on one foot, the other bandaged still.

"Oh, boy, do I have a surprise for you," he gave her a stern stare and then smiled. He threw out his free hand in a gesture for her to go first. "Gentlemen let ladies go first, and I am one gentle man."

Dwight snorted a smirk at Negan over Everly's shoulder and urged her forward. They led her to the front of the compound and out to where they kept the walking dead chained outside a chain-link fenced that encircled the factory. They showed her down the steps, having to almost carry her down, and up to the fence where the living dead spit and snarled on the other side. Dwight let her go and Negan began to circle her, a wolfish smile plastered on his face.

"Oh, yes, this is gonna be a sight to see. I don't think I've been this fucking excited in a while!"

Negan laughed as Everly stood there rigid and shivering, her head held up, but her eyes lowered to the ground, unblinking. Some of the men from the compound came out, ready for what was about to happen, and Dwight saw Sherry step out behind them. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her and his chest ached horribly. He stared at her as she descended the steps and made her way towards them.

"Baby!" Negan sang when he saw her, a loving smile shining just for her. She came up to him and kissed his cheek, her hand on his chest.

"What are you doing out here?" Her brown eyes found Everly. She quickly looked at Dwight and back again at the girl.

"Oh, nothing much, just getting my little gladiator ready for the show," he smirked over at Everly, enjoying the uncomfortable look on her face.

The look on Sherry's face was not a pleased one and it angered Dwight to see it. It was as if she was jealous of Everly, just as he was of Negan.

"Well," she took a step back, her hand still on Negan's chest, "don't take too long."

"I won't, baby," he cooed, grabbing her to give her a long, wet kiss. He bit his lower lip and shook his head as he watched her go. "Damn."

He turned his eyes back to Everly as Sherry disappeared into the building, and the smile dropped a little. He scratched his cheek and swung Lucille up on his left shoulder as he slowly walked toward her.

"That was my wife. Well, _one_ of my wives," his teeth flashed in the outside lights. He whispered, "Look at me."

Everly kept her eyes down, not blinking and barely breathing.

"Aw, come on, you're gonna be shy now?" Negan grabbed her chin and forced her head up. "I said, look at me!" He bellowed into her face, the hair around it fluttering from the force of his breath.

With obvious defiance, she languidly raised her eyes up to meet his, and Negan squeezed her jaw tighter as he glared at her.

"I don't know what you just saw or heard, but I think you should take a brief moment to think about how and why you came to be here," Negan paused to let her think about it, not taking his eyes off of hers, his gloved fingers still digging into her face. "That hot piece of ass, my wife, wasn't so sweet on me when we first met. In fact, she used to be married to Dwight here, but look at her now. She adores _every inch_ of me."

Negan smiled as he saw tears start to swell up in Everly's green eyes, her mouth pinched and her brows furrowed in anger.

"You didn't think he came by that scar on his face before he knew me, did you? And he's one of my best men! You see, there's a reason why I run shit around here, and that's because I don't take no for a fucking answer," Negan's mouth turned down as he scowled at her. "I get what I want, I take what I want, and you're going to learn that very quickly, and remember it, whether you like it or not."

He shoved her face back, causing her to stumble a few feet backwards, favoring her bad foot. She was breathing raggedly and brought her hand up to gingerly massage her face, her loose curls falling forward around her.

"So, that was the lesson and here is the test, and you're gonna want to listen carefully because this will require some quick thinking on your part," Negan squinted his eyes and pointed at her like a strict teacher would. He smiled as she glared at him through her hair. He took the finger he was pointing at her and directed it to a blocked off section infested with the walking dead.

"Out there lies your friend, boyfriend, whatever the fuck he is to you and without your help those dead fucks in there will find him and rip his fucking insides out. Now, here's the tricky part, so listen closely," Negan took a couple steps up to her and leaned in close as if he had a big secret to share and didn't want anyone else to hear.

"The only way," he whispered in her ear, his breath crystallizing in the night air, "to get him and yourself out of there alive is to find a key I've hidden. It could be anywhere; I could've shoved it up your ass while you were sleeping for all you know, but I digress. You need to get that key and get to him before those dead fuckers do, unlock him from his chains and bring him back through this gate. And don't think for one motherfucking second that you can take this opportunity to run away because _you won't get far_ ," he uttered the last four words menacingly.

"You do that, sweetheart, if you can show me that you can be a team player and go by the rules, I might be a _little bit_ nicer to you. Hell, I might even let you suck my dick clean," Negan leaned back a bit to look into her face. She was crying freely now, but made no sound. Her lip trembling, she took in a deep breath and let it out as she closed her eyes. Negan held Lucille just below her barb-wired head. He put the end against Everly's face, stroking her cheek with it just like he had when they first met.

"Aw," he sighed admiringly, a smile leisurely climbing up to his eyes. He let Lucille drop back down and said softly, "Go stand in front of the gate."

* * *

 **Hey, guys. I hope your New Year was festive and all you dreamed it would be. Mine was quite lazy, and I wrote part of a chapter while "slightly" lit off my ass on Apothic Red before ringing in the new year (beginning of chapter 19 if you guys are curious- don't worry, I'll have edited it a butt load of times before you guys read it. I actually did pretty well when reading it over the next day! I feel kinda smug about that...).**

 **Anyway! I hope the upcoming chapter has more MEAT in it. ;) You guys be sure to let me know your thoughts; if I could've done things differently and so on. I like knowing what you guys think!**

 ***gasp* ALSO! Fun story time. I just remembered this the other day, but a while back I was in Hotlanta (Atlanta for the layman). There were not many people around and I was passing by Woodruff Park, just carrying on my merry way when I saw a burnt up police car in the middle of the street. Now, not used to the city at all at the time, I stopped mid-stride and looked around like I was about to be caught up in the middle of a gun fight or something. When nothing happened, I thought maybe I had stumbled upon the remains of a crime scene, but the police car was literally the only out of place thing out of an otherwise normal day (despite there not being very many people around). I realized later as I heard other people talking that it was a prop for, you guessed it, TWD! Unfortunately, that was the only thing I saw. They must've filmed over the weekend and I just saw the leftovers of the scene. I also walked on a few other sets while in the city at different times: The Hunger Games, a Ryan Reynolds movie I don't remember the name of, and something else that I never learned was about but there were cameras and actors everywhere (no one I recognized). I never saw or met any famous actors either, but I knew they were there, lurking around. And I walked where they walked. My feet were where their feet were. WE BREATHED THE SAME SMOGGY AIR! Haha. Thought you guys might get a kick out of that very uneventful story.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

I walked to the gate with difficulty, my heart racing so fast I thought it would burst out of my chest. I was trying to steady my breathing, trying to form a plan in my head, but I couldn't concentrate. I was petrified. I scanned outside the fence looking for Daryl, but was unable to find him among the walkers. Several large trucks blocked the road leading away from the compound, making a wide barricaded area between the fence and freedom.

One thing didn't make sense, though. All the walkers were either chained up or staked to the ground. Granted, some of them were crowded together which would make it very difficult to pass through, but not impossible. If they had placed him in a crowd of them he was already gone and there would be no point to this. There had to be something else. It didn't make any sense. It would be too easy to go around smashing chained up walkers' heads, injured ankle or not.

A Savior appeared in front of me and opened the gate. The hiss and growls of the walkers rang through the cold, night air as they heard the clatter of the metal scrapping against the pavement. My bare feet were numb and my knees weak; my right ankle bound and sore. I didn't know how I was going to get through this.

"Alright!" Negan yelled behind me jovially. I leaped with a start and inhaled a sharp breath. "Let the game begin!"

I heard cheers from the Saviors behind me and I clamped my sore jaw shut, my hands tight fists at my sides. I was afraid to move, but knew I had to. I took a small step forward.

"Any day now, cupcake!" I heard Simon's voice call out behind me followed by much whistling and hollers.

I withstood the impulse to turn around and throw my middle finger up in the air, but instead walked outside the fence. I heard the gate clamor shut behind me, and I twisted around to see Negan strut up to the gate, his typical easy smile making up his face. He took Lucille from his shoulder and tapped her against the fence.

"I wouldn't stand there too long if I were you."

From behind me, I heard the quick beeping of a horn. I turned to see the back end of a box truck parked a few hundred feet directly across from the gate. I flicked a searching look at Negan over my shoulder and he returned my perplexed look with a wide, sarcastic smile. It was then I heard a scraping from the truck and I knew from the sound that the back was being opened. I looked ahead of me just in time to see a Savior scramble back to the front of the truck and a horde of walkers tumbling out from the trailer. I twirled back around to look at Negan and felt terror seize my throat. He gave me a single wave and backed slowly away.

Frantic, I looked around for a weapon; anything that I could use to defend myself. I spotted a twisted, thick rod of metal, the end jagged and sharp. It looked like it had been part of a stop sign post once. I scrambled over to it and snatched it up just as a walker made a grab for me. I spun around and drove the metal deep into its head and tore it out with a wet, sucking noise. I greeted three more the same way.

 _Find Daryl. Find the key!_ I reminded myself.

I started off farther away from the gate. My head was dizzy with the effort to breathe, keep focus on the walkers, and find Daryl and the key at the same time. Yells from the Saviors rang out every now and then, many of them throwing taunts or giving me bad advice. I wished they would yell louder and longer to distract the walkers more, but unfortunately they knew better.

I took down two more walkers, their rotting corpses stinking and gory as I caved their soft heads in. I was beginning to become despondent. I couldn't find him and there was no guarantee that a walker or two hadn't found him already. I rushed around as fast as my swollen ankle would allow, my hair flying around my head and blinding me.

And then I saw him, huddled in a far back corner slightly shielded by tin barrels and wooden pallets. I struck down a walker as I rushed over to him, throwing myself down at his side. He lay slumped over on the ground, his eyes closed. He was unconscious.

"Daryl!" I whispered ardently, shaking him as hard as I could. He didn't stir. I looked behind me to see if any free walkers loomed nearby. There were a few shuffling ostensibly forward, but they were far enough away for the moment.

"Daryl, wake up!" I smacked his face, but nothing. I tried to sit him up and I heard the clank of chains that Negan had mentioned. I looked behind him to see his hands complicatedly bound and locked to a poll. _The key!_ I cursed myself. I had nearly forgotten about it in my frenzied desire to find and get Daryl out of here.

A snarl from behind interrupted me and I spun around just in time to bury the metal piece I had deep into a walker's skull. It fell down, the metal still stuck in its head. I turned back to Daryl and quickly moved the barrels and pallets around to protect him, hoping none of them would sniff him out. I hurried back to the fallen walker as I saw the rest of them pushing their way over to me. I put my bad foot on its ripe chest, pain shooting form my ankle and up my calf, and ripped the metal out.

"Over here!" I screamed at them, waving my arms in the air. "I'm over here, you assholes!"

The walkers' demonic gazes followed me as I led them away from Daryl. I skipped backwards as gracefully as I could, keeping an eye in front and behind me as I went while also scanning for the damnable key.

 _Where could the fucker have hidden it?_ I thought, giving Negan a quick glance. He was still in the same spot, his arms were casually folded and he donned a large, blissful grin. I grimaced and centralized my focus back to the current matter at hand.

Negan definitely didn't make it easy for me to find the key, that much was a given, and frankly, I was one-hundred percent sure he wanted me to find Daryl first and the key probably not at all. It would be much more fun for him to watch the walkers tear us apart as I fought to get Daryl and myself free.

I looked at all the remaining walkers. None of them sported a key around their neck or wrists. It was possible that he could've placed the key in their clothes, but I didn't think he'd worry himself with that. If anything, it could be hiding in plain sight. I scoured the ground, hobbling around for anything that shimmered or looked remotely like a key. I got excited a couple of times, thinking I had found it, but it turned out to be nothing.

"Dammit!" I screamed in frustration, throwing the golden piece of plastic I had found under a crate in the air. I started to stand up, looking in Daryl's direction to make sure he was still covered by my makeshift barricade when I heard a walker growl close behind me.

I briskly spun around, a sharp pain searing through my broken ribs, and shoved the metal rod up into its throat. Decayed blood poured out of it in a cold, sticky river, but it continued to snap and grab at me regardless. I pushed myself up to my feet as I heard more walkers advance to the front and the back of me.

"Ugh!" I started to panic as they closed me in on all sides; there were about fifteen of them. I looked around, my hair whipping in the air, but I found no outlet. _You can get through this!_ I yelled in my head.

With a scream of determination, I shoved the walker still pierced by the metal rod in my hands backward. I ran with it in front of me and it stumbled back into two more walkers, hitting a tall wooden pole that had a thick steel wire sticking out of it. It penetrated all three of them, making a kabob of the living dead.

I took a step back and spun around, the metal in my hand carving the air and ultimately another walker's head, its soft shell of a skull caving in with ease. It fell to the ground in a heap as the other walkers got closer to me. I needed to find a way away from them and the pole seemed like my best bet. I looked back to it, scanning my eyes up its length to see if it was possible to climb. That's when I saw it, the twinkle of the metal high above the ground. The key was hooked on a rung, maybe two and half stories up.

I lunged toward the pole, stabbing the metal rod into the head of the impaled walker that had almost gotten me before. He had nearly made it off the wire, too. I yanked the rod out of his forehead and rounded the pole, grabbing onto the thin, steel rungs that were placed on either side of it. A chained up walker nearby grabbed at me as I started up and my pants slipped down to my knees.

Sharp whistles pierced the air as I ripped them back up from its grip. I kicked its face and the decaying skin sloughed off in a thin sheet to brandish a bloody, snapping skeleton. I turned back to the pole, my stomach heaving, and slowly started climbing up with sweaty, slick hands. It was nerve-racking being so high up with a grip that I could barely keep and my hurt foot hardly able to hold my weight. I wasn't stable at all.

The wind began to pick up the higher I went, blowing and ripping at me as if it was in on the torture. I screamed when a big gusto blew into me causing my bandaged foot to slip. My hair blew into my face obscuring my view and I hung onto the pole for dear life; the rod was making it extremely difficult to hold on as well, but I was too afraid to give it up. I kicked at the air as I tried to find purchase again, my shaking hands gripping the rods so tightly that I'd be surprised if I didn't leave dents in them. As the wind died down, I regained my balance and gathered the courage to start back up, moving a little bit faster now that I nearly fallen and eaten asphalt.

Finally, I was close enough to reach the key. It was dangling from a silver chain, glinting and swaying in the night air. I unhooked it and placed it around my neck, securing it under my shirt with a fleeting feeling of relief. Now all I had left to do was to make it safely back down and get to Daryl. I drifted my gaze over to where he was and saw that he was still barricaded, no walkers near him. Instead, they were all under me, clawing at the base of the pole, hungry and eager.

The Saviors were cheering, starting to get a bit louder now that I was surrounded and vulnerable. How was I going to get past all of them? There were at least ten of them now, and only a few were snarling at the fence, reaching in vain for the Saviors on the other side. It wasn't exactly a lot, but plenty enough to take me down once I reached the bottom, and I was steadily losing strength, having expended the small amount I had already. I gripped the rungs tightly and squeezed my eyes shut. _Do NOT pass out!_

"Okay," I breathed, "there's a way out of this. Just think about it."

I could go down the pole a little ways and toss the only weapon I had and make a ruckus, but then I would be left defenseless, and it was no guarantee that the walkers would even follow when they had fresh meat dangling in front of them. I could jump, but that was just stupid. I'd only hurt myself further, maybe break a bone or two, and then I'd really be screwed.

"It's now or never, pumpkin pie!" Negan's singsong voice cut through my inner debate. "Piss or get off the pot!"

"Fucking hell," I whispered to myself and gritted my teeth. I climbed down the pole a few ways, getting closer to the freaks below. I could see them teeming with excitement to get to me. With no hope left, I tossed the metal rod. It landed with a loud bluster, sending a small wall of stacked barrels toppling over. The walkers turned their heads, intrigued. _Yes!_

As most tottered off to the source of the noise, I climbed down the pole as quietly and quickly as I could, pushing past a few walkers that had stayed and bounding off toward Daryl as soon as my feet touched the ground. The unfazed walkers snarled after me as I skipped-ran, my ankle aching more than ever, but I pressed on determined and trying my damnedest not to yell out at the pain that radiated through me.

When I reached Daryl, I shoved the crates and barrels aside, pushing him over and slipping the key from around my neck. My hands were shaking so badly that it was a major effort to slip it into the lock, disengage it and untangle Daryl's hands from the cold, heavy coil, but I got him free. I glanced behind me to notice the walkers bustling their way toward us.

"Daryl!" I screamed at his face and smacked him again. He grunted, but barely moved, not even opening his eyes.

"Oh, fuck!" I glanced behind me again. They were getting closer.

I grabbed Daryl, pulling on his arms to sit him up. I turned around and put my back to his chest, throwing his arms around my neck as his head lolled on my shoulder. Pain bit into my ankle as I pushed myself up and it felt like thousands of white hot needles were being shoved into my chest, my ribs straining hard under Daryl's weight. I had almost made it to my feet when my legs gave out from under me. I slammed back down to the ground on my hands and knees, grunting in pain with Daryl still on my back. I looked up to see a walker no more than a few paces in front of me, its hands reaching out and its black tongue writhing back and forth, ready for a taste.

As I was about to push Drayl off and cover him with my body, a loud bang rang out and the walker's head exploded in front of me. It fell down, hitting my side and slumping on the ground next to me. I looked up to see Negan with a smoking rifle at his shoulder. He gave me a wink and yelled, "Better hurry up! This gun only had one round!"

Baring my teeth at him, I pushed up again, bracing myself against the cold asphalt as I stabilized Daryl's weight on top of me. I yelled out as I stood up to my feet and huffed out strained breaths in both amazement and agony; I was up. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, steering us away from the advancing walkers and to the opening gate. Despite carrying weight that was almost two times my own, and using an injured foot nonetheless, I was able to move quickly; or at least a bit quicker than the walkers who were swiping out greedy hands behind Daryl and me. I considered that a major fucking win.

I struggled toward the open gate, dodging chained up walkers here and there, and as we got closer to safety a staked walker reached out a rotting hand to grab a handful of Daryl's sweater, nearly pulling him off of me. I tightened the hold I had on his arms and twisted him out of its deathly grasp, stumbling to the side a few steps and nearly toppling over. I caught my balance and picked up the pace, huffing out strained breaths as my stomach heaved and ached; my flesh began prickling up my spine at the thought of one of them getting a hold of us again. The Saviors were going completely berserk now, screaming and shoving their fists in the air; they were having the time of their damn lives while I fought for Daryl's and my own. I took a few more determined steps; the walkers hissing and gnashing their teeth not far behind. I passed through the gate, limping Daryl's heavy body a few steps further before falling to the ground. I heard the gate close behind me and the walkers hitting it forcefully. Their snarls almost sounded disappointed.

Daryl lay on his back beside me, still unconscious. I was on my hands and knees, panting uncontrollably and trying not to pass out myself. I was completely drained.

"Holy _hell_ ," Negan shouted out, his face looked genuinely pleased and surprised, "bend me over and call me Mary because I think I just witnessed a miracle here, boys! And her fucked up five shades darker, too!"

He started clapping his hands and the others followed suit, "Damn, Dwight! You better watch your balls, I might make Everly my new second-hand man."

Dwight smirked and shrugged, crossing his arms.

"Sweetheart," Negan strutted up to bend down in front of me, "how the fuck do you walk straight with those giant set of nads dangling between your legs? That shit was _badass_!"

I couldn't believe my ears. Negan was actually complimenting me and it sounded like he meant it. I laughed out before I realized what I was doing. The absurd reality of all that had happened to me the past month and a half, plus the fear of what could possibly happen next, suddenly becoming hilarious. I laughed until I struggled to draw in air, my sides pinching in pain from the constriction. Finally spent, I lay down on my back next to Daryl and let out a long sigh, enjoying the brief moment of relief that flowed through me

"Goddamn," Negan grinned, Lucille dangling like an anvil over my head, "You're fucking losing it. I gotta be honest, I wasn't gonna let those undead dumbfucks kill you, it was all a scare tactic, but holy Christ on toast, I did not expect you to make it out of there the way you did."

He twirled Lucille up onto his shoulder and held out his right hand, a gloved offering of reprieve. I hesitated to take it. He was the enemy and taking his hand would be my white flag of surrender. I wasn't quite ready for that yet. I ignored him and sat up on my own with pain acting as an unhelpful hand.

"Dwight, why don't you escort Everly here to the showers, no points needed. I'd say she's earned it. Plus, she's got zombie juice caked on her from head to toe and it's fucking gross," he said as he kept his piercing, brown eyes on me.

"Luck you. Let's get going," Dwight said, waving me up.

"What about Daryl?" I dared to ask. He was still out cold, but relatively unharmed; or not harmed anymore than he was before.

"Don't worry about him. He'll be locked up safe and tight in his cage, all peachy keen. I'll even play him a good night song if that makes you feel any better," Negan responded.

I pushed myself up carefully, my legs and ankle delicately sore and rubbery. There wasn't anything else I could do. I hobbled over to Dwight and specifically ignored Negan as I limped past him. Most of the Saviors were still praising me with whistles and hurrahs, some shouting out thinly veiled insults disguised as compliments. I ignored them, too.

"Oh, you're freezing me in place over here with that cold-shoulder, darlin'," he called out to my retreating back, laughter in his voice. "I'll come by in five to see how things are mopping up in there!"

"Get bent," I mumbled under my breath.

* * *

 **Hi, guys. I've learned about some possible confusion (and maybe expectations) regarding the direction of my story. I just wanted to clarify that I began this story with the idea of exploring the psychological turmoil a person would go through in the hands of a sociopathic narcissist, their subsequent character development, and what they would do to survive. More specifically, how an original character would react and survive in the hands of Negan. I labeled this story as having a genre of horror and suspense, and I was sure not to cross my OC with Negan's or Daryl's name in the description (ex: [Negan/OC], [Daryl/OC]) because I wasn't even sure what direction I wanted to take in regards to that. ****I like the macabre and shocking aspects of stories/characters as well as delving into the psychology of their events/actions** **. I'm not big on writing romance, but I do try to fit it in when I can; I just don't want it to be my main focus.**

 ** _Thus far_ , you guys are not supposed to like Negan in this story. He is the bad guy in the purest form of the word.** **That isn't to say that he is not a beloved character to me. He's actually my favorite! That's why I wrote this story in the first place. But Negan is also a sociopathic badass and that's what I'm trying to convey here. I will give him tender moments, funny moments, and moments where you think there might be something more to him other than his colloquialisms and violence, but come on... This guy pulverized two amazing characters of the series. He is not a good person and he is not someone I would want to be near (or in love with; although JDM makes it soooo hard to not want to be! ;D). He is an abuser and a murderer, plain and simple. His wives, at least the ones we've been introduced to, do not like him. They are purely with him for the luxuries he can provide, out of fear of him, or as an exchange for their or someone else's life. That isn't love, it's survival, and he manipulates the shit out of them to get what he wants (and it's a bit rapey, I hate to say).** **I'm sorry if anyone expected there to be anything mutually romantic between Negan and OC, but to me that is highly unrealistic (at least if I'm sticking to the original character of Negan). Something will develop between them, but it is going to be a slow build up and I'm being cryptic so as not to ruin anything.**

 **So, I hope this provides some clarity in what I have planned here and what I'm working towards, and with that, I hope you will still enjoy my story. If not, that is perfectly fine and I understand. You don't owe me loyalty, and to each their own, as is the saying. Also, I hope you don't feel as if I'm patronizing you guys. I know you're all smart and you're good readers, but I just wanted this to be out in the open in case something was lost on you (which with some readers there was).** **  
**

 **P.S. I don't want any of you to feel that I'm putting down other writers or readers who enjoy a love story with Negan. I've read quite a few stories on here that involve Negan having a soft, romantic side and I've enjoyed them. I don't know, maybe if people are interested enough I _might_ write a love story with him, but there are already so many out there and that's just not what this story is about. I hope that makes sense and that I haven't offended anyone. It certainly wasn't my intent.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Dwight took me to a shower room afterward, keeping his eyes on my back as I limped along the corridors. Once inside, I headed straight for a stall and stripped, not bothering to wait for instructions and not looking at anyone else. The warm water immediately soothed my aching body, the throbbing pangs dulling with each second. I cleaned myself up the best that I could, barely able to raise my arms above my head. It required more energy than I had left, but I managed. I was lucky I hadn't passed out in exhaustion yet.

"Don't take too long, I want to go to bed," Dwight called, seeming to become impatient.

I didn't respond seeing as I was too busy scraping layers of blood and guts off of me. He was going to have to wait a bit longer because this was going to take a while. I felt like I needed to bathe in bleach before I could ever feel clean again, but this was a proper start at recovering. As I was rinsing off the suds, I heard the doors to the bathroom burst open and the thudding stride of rubber soled boots. They stopped outside the stall I occupied.

"All squeaky clean in there yet?" Negan drawled out.

I froze. Warm water ran over my head, streaming over my face. I blinked and looked over my shoulder to the silhouette that darkened the thin, plastic shower curtain.

"Almost," I uttered, unsure of what to say or do.

"Listen, that episode you had out there got me to thinking and I believe it's time we had a little tête-à-tête. It doesn't have to be right now. I'm sure you're just _beat_ ," he paused, his tone affable, "so I'll make good on my word to be a little bit nicer to you and let you rest up a bit."

I didn't say anything, but listened and waited, watching his shadow through the curtain. Suddenly, he ripped it back and cold air rushed over me. I scrambled against the cool tile wall, covering myself the best that I could. Dwight stood just behind Negan, his eyes cast down to the floor.

"Jesus, lady, we fucked your shit up," Negan's eyes scrutinized my many bruises, his face serious and brows furrowed. Then he smiled, "A real work of art."

I shivered, the icy air a shock compared to the warm steam of the shower. Negan stared at me for a second longer, his eyes locked with my own, and then gave a soft laugh. He let go of the curtain and rubbed his jaw.

"Don't make any plans for tomorrow night. We have a date," he wiggled his eyebrows at me and took a few steps back. I stayed plastered against the wall, not moving a single muscle, and watched him like a hawk. Dwight lifted his head as Negan came up beside him; the latter's eyes still on me.

"Why don't you get her something nice to wear? See if Sherry has anything," he clapped a hand to his shoulder and gave me a wink. He strutted out the door whistling.

Dwight narrowed his eyes at the door, his hand a tight fist on the crossbow. I watched him carefully, clearly witnessing something private. His eyes snapped over to me and a hard look etched his face.

"Finish up," he snarled and walked out the bathroom door.

* * *

He took me to the infirmary. Dr. Avery was sitting at a desk, studying papers of some sort. He looked up, startled, when Dwight busted into the room with me following close behind; a few others in the room looked too, but quickly went back to being sick when they saw who it was.

"She needs to be looked over before I take her back," he said monotonously. My heart sunk at the words, but I guess I shouldn't have expected more.

Dr. Avery placed the papers in his hand down on the desk and stood, giving me a warm smile. He gestured for me to take a seat on a small but clean cot on the opposite side of the room. Dwight didn't say another word, but strode out of the door and slammed it behind him. Dr. Avery gave me a questioning look and I shrugged my shoulders, turning to walk to the cot.

I took a seat as the doctor rummaged around the room, washing his hands and getting tools. He folded a stethoscope around his neck and walked over to me, rubbing his hands together.

"Hi, Everly," his face was warm, but his eyes looked weary. "Have you been feeling any better despite your circumstances? Sorry I wasn't able to check in on you again. I was away for a few days…"

"It's okay, and not really," I replied, looking down at my lap. "They just made me…"

I couldn't finish. Thinking about what transpired earlier, the pain still fresh and coursing throughout my body, made me feel violently ill. I swallowed hard and breathed out slowly, trying to tell myself I wouldn't get sick. Not that I had anything in my stomach to throw up anyway.

"It's okay," Dr. Avery replied gently. "Let me just look you over."

He wrapped my chest and ankle again with fresh ace bandages, commenting that the bruising and cuts looked better, but both areas were far from being healed. He placed an ice wrap around my ankle and propped it up on a pillow.

"Have you treated a man named Daryl in here at all, by chance?" I looked him in the face, hoping to see a hint of recognition on his features, but there was none.

"No, I'm sorry," he shook his head. "It's possible Dr. Carson has, though."

 _Doctor Carson_ , I remember when Dr. Avery had introduced himself that he mentioned being one of the doctors in the compound. I didn't think of the possibility of Daryl being attended to by another doctor, but that had to be the case. Daryl was tough, tough as fucking nails, but everyone has their limit. We might be prisoners here and we might have suffered a lot because of it, but I didn't think Negan had us here for nothing. Whether we were bargaining chips or the noose around Alexandria's neck for its compliance, there was no immediate reason to have us killed. He had to have seen a doctor. I was fervently convincing myself of that fact.

"Here," the doctor handed me two pills and a cup of water. "Take these and rest. I'll deal with him outside."

"What were you reading when we came in?" I asked suddenly curious, chasing the pills with a gulp of water.

He gave me a wary look, seeming unsure of how to answer and looked back to his desk. He turned back to me and took off the stethoscope around his neck, placing it on the tray by the cot.

"Those are…just some data records of certain experiments a few other doctors and I are involved in," he looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Experiments?" I was feeling drowsier by the second. The pills I had taken were hitting me hard.

"For a cure," he smiled sadly and turned away as my vision blurred.

"Are you guys close?" I whispered, but I fell asleep before I could hear the answer.

* * *

I woke up some time later in darkness. A hard coldness was seeping into my bones from the concrete floor and goose bumps ran up my spine. I smelled something savory and lifted my head up, reaching out blindly for whatever it might be and my stomach grumbling excitedly. I felt something cold and smooth on my fingertips and wrapped a hand around the curved surface. It was a bowl.

I smelled what was inside, unable to see what it was, and gave it a taste. I let out a thrilled sigh and consumed the contents. It was some sort of beef stew, cold and chunky, and it was the best thing I had eaten since I had been here. I finished it quickly, my stomach pained from the sudden consumption. I set the bowl back down and felt something graze the back of my hand. I reached out for it and picked up a glass. It contained tea, sweet tea. I guzzled it down as well.

Was this what the higher ups had to eat when the rest of us had the same old plain fare that barely filled our stomachs? They got the luxury of a hearty, flavorful meal? I let the glass clatter to the floor and kicked the bowl away, ashamed at myself for enjoying it, but still thankful nonetheless. It had been a long while since I had eaten.

Speaking of, I had absolutely no idea how long I had been passed out. It could have been hours or days for all I knew. There was no telling, at least for the moment. I hoped someone came soon because I felt wide awake now, finally well rested for the first time.

I silently assessed my wounds, concentrating on each area to gauge the pain. It could have been from the rest, the coldness the suffocated the room or from seeing Dr. Avery the last time I'd been conscious, but the soreness had greatly abated. I rotated my ankle carefully and felt a good amount of pain, but nothing compared to what it had been before.

 _How long have I really been asleep?_ I wondered. I reached down to touch it and still felt the ace bandage wrapped around it and my chest, too. My ribs were considerably more tender than anything else, but I felt almost like new. It was hard not to feel a bit optimistic at that. The only thing that could possibly make me happier would be if I could get out of this godforsaken room and be out in the common area again. I had really underestimated how much I enjoyed that stiff cot compared to the barren floor.

My ears perked up when I heard approaching footsteps. I sat up with a mix of excitement and dread as they stopped in front of my door and clicked the lock open. Dwight stood in the hallway, Daryl's crossbow hanging from his hand and a bag on one shoulder.

"About damn time you woke up," he said amiably. "I'd say you look like shit, but you look a lot better compared to a couple of days ago."

He looked down at the floor and noticed the bowl and glass scattered about. He gave me a look that told me I better pick them up, so I did and placed them neatly on the ground by the door.

"I've been asleep for two days?" I asked weakly.

"Just about," he said and motioned for me to stand up. "Let's take a walk."

I did so attentively, my legs and ankle weak, and walked to him with a lethargic gait. He shut the door behind me and wrapped his fingers around my left bicep, setting a slow but steady pace.

"What's the destination?" I hesitantly inquired. I wasn't sure if he would get annoyed or not, but I wanted to know; needed to, just in case it was to see _him_.

"Well, for starters, you need to get cleaned up," he replied. "You'll get a shower, freshen up. Then I'll take you to see Sherry."

"You're wife?"

He stopped, his fingers crushing into my arm, and glared at me.

"Negan's," he spat out.

"Yours," I retorted back. He let out a puff of indignation and set off again, this time dragging me forcefully along.

"You know I'm right. Negan saying she's his doesn't make it true."

Dwight tugged me to a stop and slammed me against the corridor wall, his fingernails biting into my skin. He shoved his scarred face up to my own, his eyes a pair of burning coals as he stared into mine.

"She is, for all intents and purposes, his. She fucks him, follows him, takes care of him, _loves_...him!" He roared out the last word, his voice strong and piercing in my ears. I winced.

"Okay," I whispered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Yes, you did," he rasped angrily. "I know exactly what you're trying to do and it isn't going to work. So just shut up and do what you're supposed to before I throw you back in that room and forget you ever existed."

I nodded lamely and pressed my lips together. He stepped back and began guiding me to the bathroom again. I looked over at him, his face taut and enraged. I felt sorry for what I said, but knew I would say again if I had to. I was going to initiate something; something dangerous and risky. I just had to be careful that my plan didn't come back to bite me in the ass, but it seemed I might be off to a good start already.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

My hair was still dripping by the time Dwight escorted me to Sherry's room. She sat at a small dinette, smoking a cigarette and wearing a small, light pink nightgown. Her room was dim, only lit by two lamps and the windows were dark, a full moon visible under wispy clouds. She had it good; _real_ good.

The room was very large with a high ceiling and nice furnishings. It had a small kitchen and a section closed off by sheer curtains in the far right corner that seemed to be her bedroom. There was a door that led to a darkened room that looked to be the bath. She had an assortment of possessions stacked on shelves; books, trinkets, dvds. It seemed Negan really tried to take care of his wives, and I didn't know if I found that surprising or not.

I looked to Dwight to find him staring at Sherry, his faced pained and his jaw muscles bulged. He swallowed hard.

"Hello again, Everly," Sherry spoke, smoke flowing out of her mouth as she did so.

"Did you know?" I asked her angrily. "Did you know what was going to happen and you didn't say a thing?"

Dwight's face took on a look of confusion and he broke his trance to look at me and then back to Sherry.

"I kind of cornered her in the bathroom a week or so ago. I just wanted to see," she said before Dwight could ask. "And no, I didn't."

"You should stop doing stuff like that. If Negan found out-" he was cut off by Sherry.

"Negan wouldn't have done a thing," she replied. "In fact, I think he subtly encourage me to seek her out, the way he mentioned her."

I gave her a puzzled look, not understanding why I would matter to his wives. The anger I felt abated just a bit, but I didn't trust her. She had to have known _something_ was going to happen that night, and I wanted to ask her how she knew Daryl, but I had already pushed Dwight's buttons and didn't feel like pressing him any further. Yet when I looked at him, he gave me a look that seemed awfully worried and, glancing back to Sherry, she held a similar expression.

She put out the cigarette and stood up, walking over to stand in front of me. She reached out to touch my hair, her fingertips tracing my face softly. Her brown eyes washed over me, taking in every detail. Her breath was soft and sweet on my face. Dwight watched us intently; sweat popping out on his brow. He cleared his throat, seeming to come back to himself.

"Uh-um," he stuttered, "I've got to get her to Negan soon. Just need you to pretty her up a bit."

 _Shit_ , I thought. I knew this visit would lead to seeing Negan, but I had intently hoped otherwise. I hadn't forgotten about our "date" much to my disgust, but felt a bit smug that I had made him wait longer than he probably had wanted.

"I don't think I have to do much," Sherry stated. "Just need to cover what's left of these ugly bruises and find you something decent to wear."

She tugged at the haggard t-shirt I wore. She turned around and went behind the curtains that shielded her tiny bedroom. She rummaged around and walked back out, a navy blue sweater dress draped over one arm and heels in the other. _Ew_ , I grimaced inwardly.

"Oh," she said, taking note of my facial expression, "he is an asshole, but you get used to him after a while. He's does actually have a soft side."

"I find that hard to believe," I said, but remembered the look he had given me after I had been ganged up on; how serene and loving his face had looked as he held me. His affection came at a steep and dangerous price.

"Well, put these on. Hopefully they'll fit okay. I'll get some make up," she handed me the clothes and I took them reluctantly, the high heels dangling from my fingers. I wanted to scream at her, _do you not see me!?_

"I don't think I can wear these," I held my hand with the heels up. "My ankle…"

"Oh…," she looked at Dwight concerned and then back at me, "I'll just get you some flats. The bathroom is there."

She pointed to a darkened doorway by the kitchen. I looked to Dwight and he nodded. I went in and shut the door, throwing the dress onto the small counter with a burst of anger. I placed my hands on the formica countertop and looked myself in the mirror. _What am I doing here?_ I lamented and gritted my teeth in frustration. I did not want to do this.

My heart started to pound and I felt my chest begin to tighten. There had to be something I could do to get out of this, but I knew, just as I had known in that van two months earlier, that I would have to do some things I didn't want to. I had asked myself then if I could do what needed to be done to ensure my survival. I hadn't done such a great job so far in that respect, but I was still here. _I can find a way out of this_ , I promised myself when a sharp rap hit the door.

"Hurry the fuck up," Dwight barked. I stripped and put on the dress.

* * *

I waited outside a set of metal double doors. From either side, two armed Saviors stared at me, smirking. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared nervously at the floor. My ankle throbbed. The white flats that Sherry had let me borrow were not exactly providing the best support. She had put more than just concealer on me and she did my hair, too. I felt like a prized pony getting ready to prance around for a show and I felt ill.

"Hey," one greasy looking Savior got my attention, "when Negan gets tired of you can I get a ride?"

Both of them started to laugh. I narrowed my eyes at the one who spoke to me, giving him a look that clearly expressed my answer. He shrugged his shoulders and blew me a kiss. Then I heard voices getting louder from behind the door and I straightened up, my heart pounding painfully. The doors swung inward and Negan stood there, a giant smile on his face.

"Well, hell-fucking- _o_!" He cast an appreciative eye over me. "I thought you were gonna show me up again, but look at you all dolled up and pretty as a peach."

I blushed angrily as Dwight stepped out from behind him as did Simon and a few other high ranking Saviors. They each gave me a look over while Dwight obliged me with a brief, piercing glare before striding down the hallway. Simon let out a low whistle.

"You clean up well," he said. "You know, you really shocked the shit out of everyone with that performance you put on the other night. I have to say you've earned a bit of my respect, warrior princess."

He threw an arm around me and gave me a good shake, smiling wide. I could tell he was mocking me, but I grimaced a smile back and resisted the urge to slam an elbow into his stomach.

"Thank you, Simon, but you can take your respect and ram it down your throat until you choke on it," I shot back.

"Ooooh, _reow_!" Simon made a swiping motion with his free hand and some of the men chuckled at him. His hug tightened and he leaned close to whisper to me, his eyes on Negan. "Hey, I have a friend. He kind of likes you, but he's too afraid to say anything about it," Simon shifted his gaze to me, a quizzical look on his face. "We were talking about you and we just kind of wondered…are you a virgin?"

My eyes widened as I felt my face flush hotly. The Saviors that were still around were choking back their laughter. Negan only smiled. Simon threw his arms up, a surprised look on his face like he meant no offense, shaking his head, "Hey, it's no big deal if you are or aren't. I'm just asking for a friend! Nothing at all to be ashamed about. I personally like the ones that are a bit more broken in, but to each his own."

He clapped a hand on my back and winked as I stared at him with contempt. I knew my face was bright red and I blinked away the sting in my eyes. I felt absolutely humiliated. Negan gave Simon a smile that said he was amused but he'd had enough.

"Catch ya' later alligator," Simon called as he sauntered off, the other Saviors following behind and freely laughing now.

"Oh, if looks could kill… Let's have our chat now, Everly," Negan said still smiling.

I took a deep breath and walked past him and into the room. It looked to be a large office with tones of gray and black. Only a desk, couch, coffee table, and some shelves occupied the room, minimal and modern. On the shelves were books and many different kinds of baseball memorabilia; I should've known. Lucille was his one true love and she laid on a stand directly behind Negan's desk, ever sharp and alarming.

"Take a seat and I'll get you something to drink," he said, pointing to a black leather couch to the left.

I walked over to it and plopped down, feeling scared and angry. I didn't want to be here. I _shouldn't_ be here. It took every ounce of my self-control not to rush at the door and try to make a run for it, but I stayed seated where I was at, my hands clutching at the leather. Negan made his way over, two glasses in his hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. He poured us each a finger and handed me a glass.

"You know, Simon is right," he said, standing in front of me by the glass coffee table. He took a sip of his whiskey and eyed me. He smiled when I didn't say anything. "I mean about how everyone was impressed with you. That shit was _insane_!"

I lowered my eyes to my lap, "Yeah, well, you didn't leave me much of a choice, did you?"

"No. No, I didn't, but that's part of the fun, right?" He sat heavily beside me, throwing back an arm behind me to rest on the top of the couch. I turned away from him, silently fuming and wanting to scoot away.

"Is that what your wives think?" I snapped my head around to look at him. "They're left with no choice, but it's part of the fun?"

The glass in Negan's hand stopped half way to his mouth and the corner of his parted lips lifted up slightly.

"Why don't you take a drink of your whiskey so you can loosen up a bit," he suggested.

"Did something happen to you as a child?" I shot back with a glare. "Were you not loved enough or something or have you always been a demented fuck?"

He only grinned and took a sip of his drink. He flicked his eyebrows up and rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch as he let out a big sigh. His fingers drummed on the leather behind my head, thrumming irritatingly over and over. Suddenly, he leaned forward and set his glass down on the table. He turned his body to face mine and placed a hand on my knee.

"Don't," I flared, pushing his hand off of me.

I gasped as he grabbed my thigh roughly and pulled my body to face him. He yanked the glass out of my hand and slammed it down on the coffee table.

"I brought you here to talk, not for you to sit there and ignore me. When I speak to you," he raised his eyebrows, "you look at me and answer. If I touch you, you damn well better welcome it."

He put his hand down on the couch on the opposite side of me, leaning over to look into my eyes. I pushed back into the leather, my heart racing. The air barely stirred around us as we stared at each other, his eyes hot and austere and mine defiant. We sat like that for a moment, daring each other to make a move or say something first. I wanted to make a run for the door again. I wasn't sure what he wanted, but I could guess.

"I had a very happy, normal childhood," he said at last, his eyes still locked on mine. "My adulthood was just as copacetic if not boring at times, but the world now"-he laughed-"I've adapted _quite well_ for the world the way it is now. You see, I don't know if you've realized, and I've said this quite a few times, just in different ways, but I'm a great fucking leader. I do what needs to be done, no ifs, ands or buts about it. I set the rules the way they should be and people, at least the ones who don't have shit for brains, thank me for it because without a leader like me they're just another group of dumb assholes that don't know shit. Kinda like yours."

"You don't know a damn thing about us or what we've had to do… A community can have a leader that isn't a murderous asshole and survive," I furiously replied.

"It can, Everly, you're right, but it doesn't last long in a world like the one we're in now. Do you want to know why?"

"I don't nee-" I started, but he cut me off.

"Because it is _weak_ , and sooner or later someone will come along to tear it down," he gave me a meaningful smile. "But that isn't what I want. I want vassalage, not eradication. It's important that you know that. We can all live in harmony, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, so long as I hold the sovereignty," his brown eyes searched mine, vibrant and eerie. "I'm not a murderous asshole _just_ for fun, Everly. People in _this_ world need control. Otherwise there won't be anything left. Not everyone is strong enough to set that order and take it for them-fucking-selves. I am."

I swallowed. What he was saying was just the tip of the iceberg that was his moral conscious. People did need a limit to prevent pandemonium, he was correct in that. We all had lived through enough already. Yet, his methods of exacting his authority and justice were not sound. He wanted to dominate through fear, pain, and death, but what he didn't realize was that his ways caused even more chaos and destruction in the end. It set order to nothing but his own sense of self-entitlement and fed into his sociopathic tendencies.

"You are the biggest narcissist I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. I know perfectly well how and what you think, you're not that difficult to read. In fact, no part about what you just said could I remotely relate to or find logic in. How exactly is striking fear into those who serve you scream security to you? Do you not ever fear that maybe one day you just might end up with a giant knife in your back from your so-called vassals?" Dwight's face flashed into my head and I narrowed my eyes at Negan. "You can't displace respect with fear, only resentment. And sooner or later, when _you_ think you have everything under control and you're feeling safe in your fucking macho man leather jacket"-I flicked at his zipper with disdain in my eyes-" _you_ will be the one who will be torn down."

With that, I shoved his arm that blocked me away and stood up, walking to the door as dignified as I could given my current physical condition. I had nearly reached it, putting out a hand to grasp the knob when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back. He spun me around and threw me to stumble against his desk, coming up on me before I had a chance to straighten up.

His fingers encircled my neck, his face a visage of animosity, but while his grip was firm it wasn't choking. He only stared at me intently, his eyes dark pools of rage. We were both breathing heavily and my hands were tight fists at his shoulders, the soft cotton of his shirt balled in them. I was ready to fight against him, but I didn't think I could win.

His features changed then, so subtly. It was clear he was still angry, but it looked like he was having an inner battle with himself, like he was deciding between tightening his fingers around my throat and ripping my clothes off. Instead, he brought his hands up to my head, placing them flat over my ears in a firm hold. He put his forehead to mine and let his eyes shut, breathing in deeply. His wiry beard scratched my jaw as he dug his fingers into my hair; his lips barely on my own.

"Go sit back on the couch. I'm not done with you yet," he rasped and let me go, taking a step back and unzipping his jacket which he took off to toss on the desk behind me.

I was shaking uncontrollably from my fight or flight response, adrenaline high-jacking my mobility, and I walked disjointedly to the couch, sinking down into it, feeling perplexed at what had just happened. I looked up to see him still standing in the same spot, staring intently at where he had pinned me against the desk. He looked menacing again, his bare arms bulging as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Then he turned away and marched toward me. I sat back, panic a quick switch on my heart.

"Here's the sitch," he said as he picked up his drink and downed it. He was back to normal as he flashed me a smile, "I'm going to share a piece of my past life with you which is something I very rarely do, and you're going to sit there and listen. You will only speak when I ask you a direct question. Let's give it a try to see if you understand."

He set the glass down hard on the table and I recoiled at the sound it made. He put his hands in his pockets, the gray t-shirt he wore stretching over him as he did so, and focused on me. His hair had become disheveled from our encounter, but he didn't move to fix it.

"Before people started dying off by the millions and reanimating, I was a high school teacher and a coach. I was also a used car salesman part-time, trying to bring in extra money for me and my wife. Her name was Lucille."

My eyes flicked to the barbed wire bat that sat on a shelf behind his desk. He waited until I looked back at him.

"I lost her not long before the outbreak, but she's still everything to me," he paused, thoughtful. "I had always been an asshole, I suppose. Only thinking about myself, never caring about others or what I did to them. Hell, most of the kids I coached were terrified of me, but we won nearly every tournament. They didn't want the shitstorm that came if we didn't," he smiled nostalgically.

"I truly did care for those kids, but her," he continued quietly, "She was the only other person in the world that I couldn't say no to and she deserved better than me... After I lost her, I had absolutely nothing else to live for but myself, and that's what I've been doing since. Living only for me and controlling any and every aspect of this life that I can. I was handed the perfect fucking opportunity to make this world mine two years ago and I took it. And here we are."

I was shocked. The fact that he had had a normal life before, let alone could care so deeply for someone, baffled me. I figured he had always been an egotistical brute in a position of power; perhaps had even been a real-life Patrick Bateman, which would have been very fitting, leading up to the apocalypse. It's was laughable to think that he was nothing but a teacher and salesman before. I couldn't picture it.

It was clear he carried a lot of demons; yet, there was the chance that he was just making all of this up. If it were true, I could say that it made a vague amount sense. If he truly did love his deceased wife as much as he was confessing to me right now, the loss of her was weighing heavily on him; I also got the feeling that he felt guilty for something. Still, while most widows and widowers felt bitterness at the passing of their spouse, not many of them went on a tyrannical rampage, killing and hurting people with no remorse because they felt like it. I frowned at him.

"Okay," I said quietly, unsure of myself or what to take as truth. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

He stared at me for a minute, contemplating something.

"So that you can understand me," he said and came up to lean down in front of me. He placed his hands on the back of the couch on either side of my head. "You said I'm easy to read, but you don't know shit about me, darlin'. I do have a beating heart despite all the evidence stacked against me. I can feel pain. I've felt the loss of love… _but_ I also that know I am a depraved bastard. I've done a lot of fucked up things in my life…and I've barely gotten started."

I stared at him, trying not to feel foolish. I knew enough about him to not trust a damn word that came out of his mouth. A smile slowly crept across his face.

"I told you all that I'm a man of my word. I don't spout off bullshit not to follow through with it, but as a used car salesman, sometimes it's worth it to wring the holy hell out of the truth to make it look just good enough for some poor sap to believe it because, hey, desperate times call for desperate measures, and you never know what someone will do when they're desperate," his eyes flitted over my face.

"What're you getting at?"

"Daryl's been locked in that cage since you saved him from those dead fucks. He hasn't seen the light of fucking day in, what, a week if not longer?" he smiled again. "So, here's my pitch, and you can say no if you want as is your right, but if you want Daryl to start having a life again, if you want him out of that cage and well, I'm gonna need something from you, and once you agree there is _no_ turning back."

His eyes searched mine. I could feel his body heat, one of his arms brushing mine. I scrunched farther back into the couch. He took my right hand in his and brought it up firmly to the buckle of his belt. I tried to yank my hand back, using my other against his shoulder as leverage, but he held on fast, a wicked smile locked onto his face.

"No!" I yelled in his face.

"Now, listen, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, but if you do this I might let Daryl spend a few days in the infirmary. He can finally get out of that cage and heal comfortably. Simon would maybe stop tormenting him as much, although it _is_ one of his favorite pastimes… So, it's up to you. Just know that. It's your choice and I won't force you," he released my hand and I fell back into the couch, cowering against the armrest to get away from him as much as I could.

"I won't ask for anything more _or_ less right now. This is the deal," he finished.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself and wrap my head around the situation. I wanted Daryl to be free from that cage, to heal and get stronger. I also wanted another chance for us to figure a way out of here. Is this what it would take to get that?

"If I don't?" I asked, wanting to know all of my options.

"Then things go back to their regular routine. Except I might need to keep Daryl locked up a bit longer. You know, to even things out between you and me," he smirked. "It doesn't have to be tonight, although I'd prefer it, but I can be patient when I want to be. So…what's your answer, Everly?"

I didn't know what to do. I had been faced with pretty hard decisions in my life, but never one like this. Never thought I would have to deal with one like this even though the possibility had increased since the world turned to shit. I tried to think about all of the consequences of refusing and accepting. Either way looked grim for me, obviously, but it was Daryl I worried about. If I could buy his freedom with this one deed, it could be worth it. Especially if Negan kept to his word, which he claimed and seemed to do so far, and allowed Daryl to stay in the infirmary until he healed.

"What-" I started, but the rest of the words got lost on the way out. I tried again. "What…exactly do you want?"

Negan smiled and chuckled once, licking his lips, "I told you before you went outside that fence that I'd let you suck my dick clean if you could play by the rules. You did. And here's your chance."

I thought about it for a minute, anxiety ripping me apart inside. I sat up, pushing him to the side to reach for the glass of whiskey on the coffee table. I drained it and said, "Okay."

* * *

 **Welp, count me as disappointed. Lost a few faves and follows which makes me a bit sad, but I guess I can't please everyone. It is a little discouraging and confusing, though. I mean, I did not think I was leading anyone to believe this was a romance, right? My story is still decent...right?**

 **Anyway, what an end to a chapter! Talk about uncomfortable, amirite...?! Do you think Everly will go through with it? What's Negan's angle here, huh? I guess you guys will see next weeeeeek! At least she isn't crying anymore, right enchantmentanjel? Haha. Thanks to those who are sticking around! I really didn't lose that many readers, just a few. :( Hey, if you guys every do decide to stop reading, I wouldn't mind learning what led you to your decision. I think it could help me out as a writer. So, if you decide you're sick of me don't be afraid to PM me and let know know why. I won't hate you, I swear. ;) Have a good weekend, people.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Possible trigger warning, I guess. Just playing it safe so I don't get ripped a new one.**

 **Chapter 14**

He took the glass from my hand and set it on the coffee table behind him, not tearing his eyes from mine. Grabbing my wrists, he stood me up and switched places with me; him sitting on the couch now and me on my knees, kneeling in front of him. He cradled the side of my face in his hand, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"You wanna do this now? Or do you wanna make me wait for it?" He asked tenderly.

My answer was to reach for his belt, attempting to unbuckle it in a trembling fury. He gripped my hands and squeezed them, giving me a chastising look. He released me and relaxed back in the couch, a hand coming back up to firmly hold the back of my neck; his fingers massaging me slightly. I started to reach for his belt again, more slowly this time, but I couldn't do it. The cinch he had on my neck tightened marginally. I looked up into his eyes.

"I don't…think I can do this," I stammered out, my heart a jackhammer in my aching chest and the whiskey acidic fire in my stomach.

"You've done it before right?" He gave me an amused, questioning look. I blushed furiously.

"Yes," I mumbled under my breath, looking away from him.

"Then you'll do just fine," and he smiled.

I swallowed hard, my fingers starting to shake as I took hold of his belt again and slipped the leather strap free. I took a deep breath. _Just get it over with_ , I told myself and began to grasp for the button of his jeans. Suddenly, his hands shot out and grabbed my own, stopping me. My eyes darted up to his, unsure and scared.

"Shit, kid, you were _actually_ gonna go through it," he let out a single laugh, a baffled look on his face. "I mean, I wouldn't say no, but _Jeesuuuus_. What kind of man do you think I am?"

My face burned and I felt a bit lightheaded and drunk. The overwhelming flood of relief was a rushing tidal wave, and I didn't think I had felt happier since I had lived at the Sanctuary; only the first sight of Daryl beating this moment by a hair. I breathed out heavily, taking my hands from his and standing up on shaky legs.

Negan continued to smile in mockery as he buckled himself up. He patted the couch next to him and I reluctantly took a seat, still very much wary of him. He poured two more fingers of whiskey in each glass and handed me one, throwing his arm over my shoulder to pull me close.

"Why?" I asked in a humbled voice. "What was the point of that?"

He sighed and shook his head before taking a drink.

"You're smart, but you're not good at reading between the lines, are you? I do things for a reason. I'm not evil just to be evil despite the fact that it _does_ get me hard ninety-nine percent of the time."

I scoffed at him and rolled my eyes in disgust. He laughed.

"Believe it or not," he continued with a smile, "I actually really like you and Daryl. That's why you're here. I like your willfulness and temerity, although it does make you stupid at times," his hand squeezed my arm playfully. "Not only is it a ball to witness, but it tells me you're tough as shit. I like that, but there comes a point when you have got to do things you don't want to. I had to see if you could do what needed to be done without the immediate threat of death looming over you, no matter how _hard_ it would be," he winked.

"This night with you is what told me that you're ready to fall in line. And I wrung _the shit_ out of the truth to see if you would trust me just enough to do it," he gave me a sideways look, taking a sip of his whiskey, then said, "Also, I have fucking _twisted_ sense of humor."

I narrowed my eyes at him, my mouth a straight line, to show him that I didn't think his twisted sense of humor was funny at all. Not that he seemed to care because he started to softly laugh.

"Why would I ever believe anything you say again after this?" I asked.

"Well, like you said, what choice do you have?" He lifted one eyebrow up questioningly and quirked a sideways smile. "To believing the _truth_ just enough to do, or nearly do, what needed to be done like a _fucking_ pro," and he clinked his glass to mine.

* * *

I was escorted back to Sherry's room after to return her clothes before Dwight dropped me back off in the common area. He was still angry as a hornet, and I kept my mouth shut while I was with him. I did have the forethought to be mindful of his feelings even if he rarely cared about mine. As I returned Sherry's clothing to her I asked her why she did it. Why she became one of Negan's wives.

"I had someone other than myself to think about. We both did," she said, her eyes empty. "It's not as bad as one might think. I know I'm nothing better than a whore, giving myself over for something in exchange. Dwight's life is worth all of it. I don't regret my decision, ever."

We were in her bedroom, the gray sheer curtains being the only thing that kept our conversation from Dwight. I stood with only a pair of pants on and a t-shirt dangling from my hand. I nodded, understanding her reasoning, but unable to connect with it. Would I ever do that for someone I loved? I wasn't so sure and I felt a bit selfish for that. I started to put the shirt over my head.

"What happened, with him?" She asked, her brow creased in curiosity. I could tell she was anxious.

I shrugged the shirt down, pulling it to my hips, "Nothing. We just talked, really."

I wasn't sure why I didn't want to tell her all that had happened. I had met a couple of trustworthy people here and so far she seemed to be one of those people, too; seemed to be genuinely concerned about me. Other than the possibility of her knowing about the walker show I was forced into and not warning me, there was just something a bit off that I couldn't quite place yet. I wanted to figure out what that was first.

"He really isn't that bad," she said as she handed me a pair of socks and sneakers. "He can be…quite loving. He takes care of us."

"I'm sorry, but are you fucking blind?" I replied sarcastically as I sat down on her bed gingerly to put on the socks and shoes. There is was; that was what was keeping me from fully trusting her. I was just naked in front of her, my bruises and cuts a showcase for her to see and she was telling me Negan was loving.

"I'm serious," she argued. "I know…what he's done to you and Daryl, and I don't know what you guys talked about, but he's been through a lot. He's lost a lot. I know he can be a perfect asshole, but there's more to him than that. He wants to make a better world. He _is_ human…for the most part."

"Is Negan putting you up to this? I'm asking honestly because I don't know how you can stand there with a straight face and say this shit to me," I shook my head, truly feeling sympathy for her. Negan had either really wormed his way into her head or was forcing her to do this. "I'm just not buying it. I've seen what he can do. I've felt it, what he's capable of. I don't know what he has or hasn't done to you, but I haven't seen the side you're talking about. And frankly, I don't care to."

"I've seen the shit he's capable of, too," she grabbed my arm roughly and I looked up into her angered eyes. Suddenly, the fire went out of them as she looked down at me, and her hand dropped to her side. "I'm sorry. I just… I don't know."

She plopped down next to me, a heavy sigh escaping her as she did so. I remembered what Dwight had told me earlier in the hallway, about how she loved Negan now and not him. I didn't believe him before, but now I wasn't so sure.

"Do you love him?" I asked.

Sherry looked over her shoulder and across the room at Dwight who was watching a movie and patiently waiting for us to finish, oblivious to our conversation. She sighed heavily again with a slight hitch. I saw regret and longing in her face.

"I don't know, maybe. Have you ever been…in love? Do you know what it feels like?" She asked me back.

"Uh," I shifted uncomfortably. A set of eyes black as onyx invaded my mind. I felt the ghost of his warm, brown hands on my skin and my heartbeat quickened. I sighed. "Yes."

"So you know how consuming it is. How utterly disarming it can be when you realize everything makes sense. That was Dwight. I have never felt happier with someone as I did with him," tears glittered in her brown eyes. "I gave that all up so that he could live, and Negan… I know he was the one to cause it, but he helped fill the void in me. He took the pain and…replaced it with something else. Something that I'm afraid of losing now and that scares me."

I looked away from her, not wanting to see that anguished look on her face any longer. I didn't dare ask another question, suddenly losing my earlier energy and curiosity despite the inquisitive part of me still wanting to know more; to figure everything out. I felt like I had dug just a bit too deeply for the time being. I know I was an emotional wreck after everything, but I had to keep in mind that Sherry had been through and seen much more than I had; she had been a part of this so much longer.

"I think I should go now," I said, standing up.

I made my way over to Dwight. He looked over when he heard me coming, standing up as I passed by to stand by the door. I saw him looking at Sherry. She was still sitting on the bed, her form shrouded by the thin drapes, but she didn't acknowledge us at all. Dwight turned around slowly and gestured for me to go out the door. I did and he shut it behind us, a distant look in his eyes.

* * *

"Wake up, sleeping beauty!" Simon sang out and rapped his knuckles on top of the cage.

Daryl woke up a start, his body stiff and in agony. He pushed himself up to his knees and found Simon's cheery face peering down at him through the steel bars.

"It's time for a little field trip," he said and produced a key to unlocked the latch. He opened the small cage door. "Well, come on now!"

Daryl glared at Simon with mistrust, but having no other option he began to crawl out of the cage. As he did so, Simon looped a loose chain around his neck and yanked him up to his feet; he stumbled forward, barely able to catch himself before he fell. Simon began to lead him out of the room while whistling a happy and all too familiar tune, the chain swaying back and forth in a playful way.

"Where're you taking me?" Daryl asked, his voice wavering from lack of use. He hadn't spoken in what seemed like weeks.

"We're gonna get you all patched up, buddy!" Simon said with a glance over his shoulder. "You get to see what it's like to have a bit of special treatment around here. I think you might like it."

They climbed a set of stairs as a few Saviors stopped to watch, snickering and shaking their heads.

"Yo, Simon!" One of them yelled, his face red with glee. "Does lover boy know yet?"

Simon stopped halfway up the stairs and in a grand mocking gestured shushed him, giving the Savior a wink before continuing his way up. Daryl stood still, his eyes on the group of them down below and watched their smirking faces. He furrowed his eyebrows in anger and Everly's face rose up in his mind.

"Keep walking, lover boy," one of them said as Simon tugged on the chain, and Daryl broke his gaze to follow after him.

"What're they talking about?" Daryl dared to ask once they had reached the top and were making their way down another corridor.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough, amigo," Simon replied with a grin, and opened a door.

Inside was an infirmary. Clean cots, patients, and medical supplies occupied the room, and Daryl felt shocked. Why did they bring him here? Simon let the heavy chain drop to the floor and slipped it from his neck. He stood staring at him for a moment, his eyes arrogant and bored.

"There's a shower in the bathroom. Go take one," he demanded.

Daryl gave him a sideways glare before turning his gaze to the bathroom at the far end of the room. He went inside and started to close the door when Simon yelled for him not to. He pushed it back open, his hand a hard fist around the knob. He quickly undressed and took the first shower he had had since being locked up in that cage. He lathered up, feeling better almost immediately.

They had tortured him. Not always with a beating or anything physical, but with music. They had played the same damn song over and over again; it rang in his ears now, the water of the shower keeping beat with the awful melody that wouldn't quit. He squeezed his eyes shut and placed his hands on the shower wall, bending his head down while trying to rid himself of the song. It was ever persistent.

"Are ya rub a dub dubbing one out in there, Daryl? What's taking so damn long?" A southern drawl inquired. The obscure shower door whipped open and Negan stood there wearing a broad smile with Lucille on his right shoulder.

"Damn, you look like shit. Even cleaned up a bit, you still look the fucking same. Dirty," his smile was about as assiduous as the song that played incessantly in his head. It was fucking aggravating.

Daryl twisted the shower knob off and stepped out, coming up to Negan to drip on his shoes. He didn't say anything to him, but just stared. Negan's smile faltered a bit, a look of irritation starting to take it over, and he raised his eyebrows in an expression that said: _Do you really wanna do this?_

Daryl turned away and grabbed a towel that was on a shelf by the shower, and dried off. Negan had walked out of the room, but Daryl knew he was waiting for him. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out, avoiding eye contact with the two other patients in the room. Simon was still present, leaning against a desk with his arms folded, along with Dwight and another man. The new guy was black, short and lean with a handsomely kind face.

"Ah, good afternoon, Daryl, is it?" He asked in a benevolent tone.

Daryl looked to the others, waiting for whatever trick they had planned, but their faces remained impassive; disinterested even.

"Uh, yeah," he said at last.

"I'm Dr. Emerson Avery. There are some clean clothes in the closet right there. Nothing fancy, but they're comfortable. Put them on and take a seat on a cot so I can look you over," he smiled and turned away. Daryl did as he was told, the word fancy dredging up very unpleasant memories of Everly, and then sat on a cot. He could barely bear to think of her, his heart broke every time he did.

"Okay, great," the doctor chirped and began his evaluation. He bandaged him up, cleaning and stitching various wounds. His kind face took on a look of cynicism as he worked, but he continued diligently. His bedside manner was something to admire.

When he finished up, Negan excused the doctor from the room, taking the seat he had vacated. He looked Daryl in his eyes and laid Lucille down beside him on the cot; her sharp wires poking smartly into him. Negan folded his hands down between his legs, his elbows resting on his knees and a grin inched up his face, slow as molasses. He chuckled.

"I bet you're wondering why I let you come up here," he said, his eyes holding onto something secret.

Daryl refused to speak, not finding the effort worth it. Instead, he just listened and stared. Negan gave him a delighted look, his eyebrows furrowing up to the center of his forehead.

"Yeah, you're wondering," he continued, "I can see your pea-sized brain straining _hard_ to figure it out… I won't be too elusive with you. I feel like our relationship has reached a point where I can be quite frank with you now and you'll take what I say with _very little_ opposition. In fact, I kinda feel like we're friends."

Negan patted Daryl's knee with a hard smack. Daryl tensed up as pain shot through his leg, grunting with the effort to control the scream that had risen up to his mouth. He held it back as the pain slowly abated, and he swallowed hard. He looked back at Negan.

"Well, friend, I gotta say that you have really put me in a bind. I thought you'd be easier to crack, but ho-lee fuck balls, _you are not_! I locked your ass up in a cage that you barely fit in for over a fucking week, played that dumbass song over and over again, but look at you. You still look like you wanna rip my fucking throat out," Negan laughed once, he sat back in the chair and threw a foot up on one knee. He draped his right arm over the back in a relaxed manner and smiled.

"But it isn't me you should be thanking," he bit his lip as he eyed Daryl closely, excited for his reaction. "You should thank Everly."

Daryl's eyes widened slightly, an involuntary twitch ran up his arms, but otherwise he didn't move or make a sound. He had worried about her constantly since he had watched her get savagely beaten by a couple of Negan's girls; had agonized over her, not knowing if she was alive or dead. She had looked so small and broken, lying limp and bloody in front of him on the floor. He had been so furious with her, too; if only she had just sat there... When would they both learn?

"She really _put out_ a show for you," Negan's smile was teasing, "but you missed it. You were pretty heavily fucked up."

He turned toward Simon and Dwight to ask them how many pills they had given Daryl before he was thrown outside the fence with the walkers.

"Enough to knock his ass out for a damn day and a half," Dwight said. He had Daryl's crossbow in his hands.

"You should've seen it. She was _magnificent_ , the way she hauled your ass out of there, all broken and bruised. It was a real turn on," Negan's tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip

Daryl straightened up quickly, his features a hard mask of fury and his hands balled into fists. Negan sat forward at the same time and wrapped a quick hand around Lucille. Dwight had the crossbow up and pointing at Daryl's chest.

Daryl's lip curled up as he said, "If you've touched her-"

"You'll what?!" Negan snapped at him, but sat back with a laugh. "You can't do shit, man. Look at where you are!"

Daryl was breathing heavily with rage, unable to relax anymore; not that he really had been before.

"No, I didn't do much to her, Daryl. Don't you worry that soft noggin' of yours. No," Negan kept on smiling, twitching his dangling foot with ease, "I didn't touch her, _but_ …she did touch me. She wrapped her pretty little mouth all over every inch of me."

Daryl lunged for him, his fist flying out towards his face. Negan turned to the side, barely missing the hit, and slammed Daryl down on the cot with ease. Daryl cried out from the impact, his sore body seething in pain.

"You're a fucking liar!" Daryl screamed at him. "I'll fucking kill you!"

"Well, which one is it!?" Negan screamed back with an angry grin. He still had Daryl pinned down on the cot. "Are you gonna kill me because I fucked around with your wannabe girlfriend or because I'm lying about it?"

Negan lifted him up off the cot and shoved him back down, letting him go as he did so. He gave Daryl a severe look as he grunted in pain on the cot. He sat back down in the chair, going back to the same position as before: careless and relaxed.

"Daryl, I would never lie to you," Negan brought a hand up to his chest and mocked a look of hurt. "That goes against my whole moral code. I'm a stand up guy! I'm not telling you this for shits and giggles. She can suck a mean dick. If you haven't tried her out already, I feel sorry for you."

Daryl shot up toward him again in a screaming rage, trying to grab him by the throat. Negan landed a solid punch across his jaw, sending him sprawling backwards onto the floor. Simon and Dwight were up on him before he had a chance to get back up again.

"Easy now, pretty boy. Ain't nothing but hurt for you if you keep struggling," Simon said as he pinned Daryl on his stomach, pulling one arm up to behind his back to his shoulder blades. Dwight was looming over him with the crossbow steadied at his head. Daryl breathed out roughly in pain and anger.

Negan slowly strolled into Daryl's line of view, his boots thudding with each precise step. He stopped right in front of his face, Lucille tapping the ground by his nose. He lazily squatted down, sighing as he did so.

"Bring his head back," Negan commanded and Simon grabbed a fistful of Daryl's damp hair, yanking his head back forcefully.

Daryl glared up at him, heaving in and out madly, and Negan's face was an array of disappointment and condescension as he looked down at him.

"I can see that this has gotten a bit of out hand, so let me reiterate myself for the _millionth-to-last_ _time_ and maybe now it will finally sink in through that thick, hillbilly skull of yours," Negan slammed down the point of Lucille on the floor by Daryl's face, the wiry bristles barely missing his skin. "Don't ever think you can come at me like that again. _Ever_. I know! I hit a sore spot, talking about someone you care about, but rules are rules. I set the laws, and I've made them clear for you and every other asshole in this place. When you break them, I get upset and then I retaliate. And from now on when I retaliate, I'll know who to use to get through to you… Have I made myself any clearer or should I give you an example?"

"You're clear," Daryl spat out.

"Super," Negan replied sardonically, still giving Daryl a sharp look of disappointment, and stood back up. "Who are you?"

Daryl clenched his jaw, his mouth a hard line of contempt. Negan smiled in a patronizing way as he watched him struggle to submit, bending over slightly and cocking his head toward him. He put a hand up to his ear, a gaping, questioning grin on his face.

"Negan," Daryl whispered.

"Atta boy!" Negan stomped his foot as he said it. "I knew it was hiding somewhere inside of you, I just had to find a way to squeeze it out!"

Negan clenched his fist closed in front of Daryl's face before straightening up with a soft laugh. He started to walk out of the room, whistling that irritating song they had forced him to incessantly listen to and swinging Lucille at his side. He stopped when he reached the door, turning on his heel slightly as he looked back over his shoulder at Daryl still pinned to the ground.

"By the way, I was just yanking your balls about Everly. I'm not a fucking rapist. Friends can joke, right?" He gave Daryl a wink and left the room.

* * *

 **Oh, Negan, you dirty, manipulative bastard! But hey, at least he didn't actually take advantage of her, right? Maybe he _does_ have a sort of human side... Maybe... And what do you think about Daryl saying his name? Do you think that it sticks true to his character or no? I guess in the show he really didn't have anyone else to think about while being held captive, so he had no reason to do it originally. But here Negan is again, wringing the holy hell out of the truth to get what he wants!**

 **I just want to take the time to thank every single one of you guys who reviewed and who are still enjoying my story. I lost a few more readers after my last post; I guess they assumed this chapter would be too intense for them and decided to kick rocks. Your reviews were what kept me going to edit and write more despite my motivation running thin. So, thank you. :)**

 **To the reviewers who I could not personally message back (Juliet2009, termapie, Mia, and Maze), thank you guys for your reviews and suggestions! You're all awesome!**

 **To all of the other readers out there who are still reading and having fun while doing it, thank you, too!**

 **Also, in regards to termapie's review on taking my time with my chapters, I'm actually going to heed that advice because I did feel rushed to post Chapter 13 despite it having been written a loooong time ago. I actually posted it after editing it while half asleep and when I reread it a few hours later (after a quick siesta I dearly needed) I found waaaaaaaay too many mistakes and typos that I was not happy with, and quite frankly, I was embarrassed. So, if I ever do not update on a Friday, I will try my hardest to update the next day or some time that weekend when I am rested and relaxed. With that, if I ever post a chapter and it seems belligerent (or if my writing just seems sub par, period), please call me out on it a.s.a.p.!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

In the common area, I still had the same cot and, surprisingly, all of my things resided in the cardboard box at the end of it. I figured everything might have been a free-for-all with me being absent for so long, but clearly my possessions hadn't been worth taking. However, I didn't have my toiletries that I had dropped in the hallway after my unfortunate run-in with Negan. Those had either been swiped or thrown away, and I didn't have a lot of points to buy new ones either.

I had only been in possession of my pseudo-freedom for three nights now. I was happy that I was no longer locked in a cell and was on my way to healing fully, but somehow I felt more trapped than before. I replayed the personal conversation that I had with Negan over in my head constantly, and the image of his face centimeters from my own followed me in my dreams; the encroaching intimacy of the night lingering within me. I still wasn't sure what it had all been about. He had already asserted his dominance over me on more than one occasion; the last one being enough to set me straight…for a while. And maybe he knew that. Maybe he knew that Daryl and I would try again and again to leave this place. Maybe he looked forward to it.

I finally decided that tonight I was going to stop by the infirmary to see Daryl. He hadn't been there long and I wasn't sure if I was allowed to or not, but I didn't care. It would only be a problem if I got caught and I wasn't planning on letting that happen.

I waited until everyone was settled and asleep. I kept an eye out for the patrolling Saviors as I got on my feet and snuck my way out of the common area, gently shutting the large door behind me. As I padded around the darkened factory, it was quite silent and eerie; the hallways empty and dark. Small shadows danced along the walls here and there, the moon a silver illumination through the gritty windows which helped display the concrete floor ahead of me. The darkness was a natural aide in my concealment. There weren't many people roaming around the factory at this hour, but the ones who were out and about were much easier to avoid with obscurity on my side.

I made it to the infirmary door without incident. I was getting more and more accustomed to this place which made me painfully aware of how long we had been trapped here. _That's to our benefit_ , I convinced myself as I slowly opened the door, trying not to make any noise. I wasn't sure who would be in here, but I also didn't want to disturb Daryl either if he was asleep.

Inside, most of the lights were off except a few around the room. Daryl was lying in a cot near to the door, his eyes closed and his breaths rhythmic. There were a few other patients, but it looked like everyone was asleep and no one else was present. I wondered where Dr. Avery was as I tiptoed next to Daryl, drawing a chair close to his side and sitting quietly beside him. I gently placed my hand into his, his warm, calloused hand limp in mine.

His eyelids began to flutter and his hand tightened on mine as he adjusted himself on the cot. He lifted his head up as he opened tired eyes and peered down at our clasped hands, confused. Abruptly, he jerked back with a start, his once steady breaths becoming ragged as he snatched his hand from mine.

"It's me. It's just me," I soothed faintly and took his hand again.

His weary eyes looked me over for a moment, wild and alert, and then he seemed to realize it was me because he relaxed instantly. He flung the blanket covering him to the side, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot, and crushed me to his chest in a tight hug. He sighed deeply, pulling me closer against him.

"Ow," I muttered, but held him back fiercely, tears stinging my eyes.

We sat like that for a good while, not wanting to let each other go and afraid of not having the opportunity to do it again. Finally, we loosened our embrace and sat back, both of our faces wet, but smiling.

"I've missed you," I whispered, squeezing his hands in mine and my bottom lip trembling. "I'm sorry for what they did to you, locking you in that cage for so long."

Daryl raised a hand to my face, cradling it and brushing away the tears with his thumb.

"It's alright," he whispered back, his swollen and blood shot eyes not looking away from mine for a moment. "I'm sorry, too, for everything. For not being able to protect you from these sons'uh bitches."

I smiled sadly at him, knowing that neither of us could control what happened to the other in this place, but I appreciated the apology nonetheless.

"How are you feeling? Have you been resting well here?" I asked hopefully.

"Well enough, considering. S'pose it's better than that fucking cage," he responded, but all at once, a pained and serious look overtook his face. "What'd he do to you?"

I furrowed my eyebrows not understand what he meant for a moment before realizing he must have found out about my "date" with Negan somehow. I looked down and blushed, thinking about what had almost happened between us. How I had been so close to selling myself out and becoming like Sherry. The shame was almost too much to bear, but then I remembered what she had told me that night. I decided that it would've been worth it.

"Nothing unusual. Just intimidated me with his typical insulting cracks and did it with a smile," I tried to smile myself, but I felt my face twitch unnaturally. I could tell Daryl didn't believe me entirely because his eyes narrowed into a glare.

"What'd he do to you?" He asked again, harshly emphasizing his words.

"Listen, I don't know what you've been told, but nothing happened. I'm fine," I looked at him with a look that begged him to believe me. "I-I wouldn't…I wouldn't have let anything happen."

 _Liar. You're a liar,_ I scolded myself. I looked away from him.

"It don't matter if you didn't want to let anything happen. Something could've happened whether you wanted it to or not," he retorted.

"You're not wrong, but nothing did. He didn't lay a finger on me, I promise," I lied again.

Daryl sighed and his eyes softened. He seemed to be mulling something over and he looked uncomfortable. I squeezed his hand again and smiled.

"Honest," I said. "We really just talked. It was fucking weird, but that's all it was. He told me about his past life, how he was a high school teacher and used car salesman. I thought that was quite odd."

"Just because he didn't try anything with you then don't mean he won't later," Daryl completely ignored what I had said, an angry look in his eyes again. " _I_ find it odd that he has no problem murderin' people in cold-blood, but draws the line at rape."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat because what could I say to that? It was odd. Especially since Negan seemed to enjoy the misery and pain of others, one would think he'd get off on it, too. I was sure he still did but maybe forcing himself on women wasn't quite his cup of tea. But what did I know? He did have multiple wives, and I was sure not every single one of them was willing. Sherry's possible Stockholm syndrome was a prime example. Even if she had made the decision to be his wife on her own, it was still coercion in a way, right?

"Yes," I agreed dumbly.

Daryl let out a snarl, his hand crushing mine.

"He didn't rape me, Daryl!" I whispered harshly. "I swear it!"

I yanked my aching hand from his, rubbing it. He immediately looked sorry and said as much, taking my hand back and massaging it.

"I just…" he let out a frustrated sigh, "I'm just fucking angry, Everly. I almost murdered the rat bastard the other day when he told me…what he said about you. I went after him and if I had gotten my hands on him, they would've had to kill me for me to stop."

We sat in silence for a minute, both of our eyes to our clasped hands; him still rubbing mine. Then he let out a soft snort and I looked up at him inquiringly.

"Got my ass kicked again for it," he said and laughed out. I started to laugh with him, but we immediately shut up when someone in a cot snored loudly and shifted around. I hit Daryl's shoulder and put a finger to my smiling lips, indicating that it was time for us to tone it down.

"We're one fucked up duo, Everly," he whispered a last, a smile lingering on his face. My heart ached to see it.

"No doubt about it," I affirmed. After a minute, when the hilarity died away and the fear came back, I asked, "How did he find out?"

And I cried again because I was so tired. So tired of worrying about our safety and about what would happen next. Each day here was like a click of a revolver against my head in a nasty, perpetual game of Russian Roulette. It would eventually come to a gruesome end, but when? It was a heavy burden to carry around. Top it off with everything else that had happened and I was nearly close to being crushed from the weight of it.

Daryl held me, stroking my hair as I silently sobbed into his chest. He let out soothing murmurs every now and then, the warmth of him against me enough to calm me down and help me regain some trace of sensibility. I straightened up, my hands still clutching his shirt, and looked at him beseechingly. He wiped the tears from my face.

"I dunno, but we'll find a way out of here," he said, "eventually. The real question is what'd we do in the mean time?"

I nodded, trying to think everything through logically. The only answer I could come up with was compliance because there was nothing else to do other than wait.

"We have to go along with it…" I replied forlornly.

"Mmph," he looked away from me, his hands back in his lap.

"What?"

"I did it…" He was being vague and I wasn't sure what he meant. I squinted my eyes at him and he let out a sigh and grimaced, his jaw muscles working hard. "I told him who I was."

My eyes widened as realization dawned on me. He had given in and gave Negan what he had wanted. And did this mean that Negan had complete power over him now? Would Daryl do everything he told him to? I had a hard time wrapping my mind around the thought, but maybe it would be for the best if he did. I needed to do the same, too, no matter how hard it would be. It would only be temporary, that was a firm belief both of us had. We just had to be strong enough to maintain the deceit until we were free.

"Until eventually comes, we gotta play bitch and stick our asses in the air whenever he's around. If we do that, maybe he'll give us a reach around as he fucks us over," Daryl finished angrily. I scrunched my face up at his comment and he gave me a grouchy look that said, _What?_

"You can stick your ass up. I'll just tuck my tail between my legs and keep it low to the ground," I said and he let out a deep chuckle in response, the hard lines of anger easing from his face a bit.

"Thank you," he said, the smile dropping from his face.

"For what?" I asked.

"For saving my life. He told me all about the walkers, what you did," his vivid blue eyes searched mine.

"Oh," I responded, temporarily forgetting it had even happened. "You would've done it for me."

He didn't say anything, but his eyes held mine in an intense gaze and I read him perfectly, knowing the look he was giving me all too well. I started to feel odd. I hadn't known Daryl or anyone else back in Alexandria for very long, maybe half a year, but I realized now that he and I had connected. Being thrown into this situation together was certainly enough to give us something in common, but I never realized that our friendship could grow to mean more to him.

Suddenly, the infirmary door opened. We both jerked away from one another, a stroke of fear running through me at the thought of seeing Negan standing there watching us, but instead a tall, slender man walked in. He stopped when he spotted Daryl and me, his eyes reflecting the dim lights in the room.

"You're not supposed to be here," he stated matter-of-factly and walked over to us. His nametag read Dr. Carson. "You should hurry back to your quarters before someone else discovers you here."

"I know," I said without thinking through what I was going to say, "I really came here to borrow some, um, some toiletries. I lost mine-mine own. I lost my own."

I looked at Daryl and gave him an unsure cringe, shrugging my shoulder up slightly. Dr. Carson looked barely convinced and perturbed instead.

"In the middle of the night?" He questioned wisely. Daryl and I gave each other a fretful look and the doctor sighed. "No need to borrow. There are a few spares in the closets down there. Hurry up and I won't mention anything about this little rendezvous to anyone," he finished with meaning.

I gave a slight nod before getting up from the chair, understanding what he meant. I was pretty sure it was Dr. Carson's duty to supervise all the patients in here. If it had been found out that I was able to get in and reunite with someone he knew I wasn't supposed to, then he'd be in deep shit as would we. The toiletries were a compromise. I grabbed what I needed, wrapping them up in a towel, and made my way back to Daryl.

"I spotted some neosporin and tylenol for you in case you never receive that reach around," I japed as I stopped by his cot.

"Shut up," he said with a smile, tugging me down for a quick hug.

"Good night," I whispered and gave him a peck on the cheek before pulling away and showing myself out.

* * *

I was very lucky that things happened the way they did. I didn't have very many points before being locked up in a cell by Negan a second time and I had had none right after. I was able to gain a few back my first day out, but I had used it all on food. The free toiletries really helped lift up my spirits as did my visit with Daryl. The trick now was just delving out my points responsibly for both food and showers.

Tonight, I chose a light, quick meal in exchange for a nice, long shower. I had only had one since the night I visited Negan and I was long overdue for another. Sometimes I felt like I could still smell him, like he had stained my skin somehow. The warm shower helped erase that and the heavy burden that plagued me before lifted just a little, ever slightly. Physically, I was feeling better, too. My limp wasn't as heavy, my ankle getting less and less sore and swollen as the days went by, and my ribs felt almost completely healed; it was progress and I felt nearly normal again.

I gathered my things after cleaning up and exited the bathroom to head back to the common area. I was looking forward to sleeping, the only thing that I really had to look forward to at the moment. Daryl's and my situation was pretty stagnant right now. He was still in the infirmary, having been in there for the past week, and I hadn't had much luck getting in again. The last time I tried to visit, I was stopped by Dr. Carson who apparently had decided to stay put after my first visit. It was smart of him, I guess, so I decided not to push it. I also hadn't had any run-ins with Negan in the meantime, only catching a glance of him from afar now and again, and he hadn't approached me either which I appreciated.

Despite myself, I wondered feverishly about him. I had told him that he wasn't that difficult to read and I thought that was true, but he basically had thrown that back in my face. Everything he had told me was perplexing; especially the parts where he shared intimate details of his life before; Sherry's words were no help either. Why did he care if I understood him or not? What did he gain by telling me any of that information? I also couldn't understand why he decided to let Daryl go to the infirmary either. He certainly hadn't seemed to care about our wellbeing before as he was the reason why we were in this mess in the first place.

 _"I know perfectly well how and what you think, you're not that difficult to read."_

I scoffed at myself. I had thought that to be true, but Negan certainly left most parts of himself in the dark. And it frustrated me because he had been right, I didn't know shit about him other than what he wanted me to.

I hadn't figured out how he found out about us either. I tried to think of a time that I might have been careless, but the truth was that I hadn't been. I had been so careful to the point that sometimes I would rip up notes I had already written and discard them, writing the same note in different ways and in another location multiple times. I wasn't as sure about Daryl, but I couldn't imagine for one second that he was less conscientious than me. We had both known what was at stake.

 _We're lucky to still be breathing_ , I told myself. _Lucky we both still have a rounded head_.

I shivered involuntarily at the thought of meeting Lucille face-to-face again. I thought briefly of Abraham and Glenn, the thumping pain of loss a lead weight in my chest; my burden getting heavier again. I tried to push them from my mind, thinking instead of everyone else back home. I wondered how they were holding up and if they were still safe. I think it was okay to say that they were since Negan nor anyone else had bragged about anything, and even though it had been a while since Daryl had been there, it was reassuring to hear from him that they had been all right.

At the end of my cot, I placed the toiletries in the cardboard box. A golden glimmer caught my eye as the bottles tumbled further in and I stooped down to look more closely. I dug for whatever it was, curiosity winning over the desire to rest, and pulled out the locket I had found the first night I had stayed here. _Amanda_ , I read again, running my thumb over the name.

 _What happened to you?_ I pondered and then considered that maybe I didn't want to know.

"How'd you get those?" A voice asked behind me.

My heart leapt with a shock and the locket fell out of my hand as I spun around to see Dwight. He gave me a neutral look, Daryl's crossbow hanging over one shoulder, and pointed at the box. I looked back down and realized he meant the bottles of soap and shampoo.

"I know you didn't have the points to get them, even if you had skipped all your meals," he said.

I stood all the way up, not sure of what to say. I didn't think anyone would have really taken note or cared, but I guess it wasn't surprising that whatever I did wouldn't remain unnoticed for long. I put my hands nervously in my pockets, steeling myself for whatever might happen next, but before I could answer Dwight started talking again.

"Negan wants to see you. Follow me," and he turned on his heel to stride out of the room with me grudgingly not far behind.

* * *

 **Hey, hey, hey! I just want to say that yesterday evening I had a plan. A plan that I thought would be quite easy for me to follow, but I ended up failing miserably at it. The plan went as follows: get home, walk the dogs, take a quick snooze, wake up feeling refreshed and rested, reread and edit this chapter, post it, have a shower and dinner, blah, blah, blah and so on. Well...let's just say that I was doing good up to the part where I take a quick snooze. Well *sigh*, I took my snooze, all right. I took it and snoozed my ass off because I didn't wake up until 9 o'clock this morning. Ooooopsies! So, sorry you guys didn't get an update yesterday evening. It was because I was passed out and drooling on myself for about 14 hours, but I guess I needed it, haha.**

 **Also, thank you for your reviews and encouragement, you wonderful people! I LOVE reading them so much that I reread them multiple times. Truly, you guy are awesome. And to my two guest reviewers and Lenaland: you are awesome, and you are awesome, and you are awesome! :D And that's all I have to say about that.**

 **Hopefully this chapter wasn't too boring, but the next one should (hopefully) be more entertaining. It has a lot of dialogue in it that makes me laugh, so here's to hoping it'll make you laugh too when you read it. Enjoy your weekend!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

He led me deep into the compound, taking me down several flights of stairs until we were no longer on ground level. I had never been this far into the factory before, only staying around the parts I was familiar with. It was uncharted territory and my imagination was running wild with what Negan had planned.

"Where are we going?" I asked Dwight anxiously, my voice slightly echoing off of the high, concrete walls.

He glanced at me over his shoulder, "You'll see."

"What did I do now?" I stopped walking and crossed my arms over my chest.

Dwight looked back over his shoulder and stopped walking when he saw that I had. He turned around in exasperation and rolled his eyes.

"Stop fucking around and follow me," he replied levelly.

"Dwight," I begged.

He sighed heavily and threw out a hand in defeat, "He just wants to meet with you. Nothing is going to happen, I swear."

"Thank you," I said with sincerity. He looked me over, his expression changing from annoyed to troubled.

"Just come on," he murmured and started back down the hallway.

Reluctantly, I put one foot in front of the other and began to follow him again, my mind running a hundred miles a minute. Negan wanted a meeting, but about what? Had he found out about my brief visit with Daryl? Could that be what this was about? Did he want to humiliate us some more? It hardly seemed worth the effort seeing as nothing had really happened, but I had learned so far not to underestimate Negan and his sense of boundaries.

We ventured further into the depths of the compound, the air surrounding us turning cooler by the second. I shivered and rubbed my hands along my arms as we passed underneath a flickering florescent light. I had never stopped to realize how extensive this place might be. I knew it was huge, but I had always kept my focus on what was right in front of me and I wondered exactly how much I had missed since I'd been here. How many opportunities had I failed to see? Faintly, I heard laughter irregularly laced through the steady beat of a distant melody. It became louder the further we traveled down the hall and pretty soon Dwight stopped in front of a set of doors. He turned to me with a muted gaze and placed his back against the push bar to thrust it open with his hip. The music hit me in full force as I slowly stepped inside a large, crowded room.

I thought that I had been fairly aware of the goings-on in this place and that there might be plenty of secret, nefarious Savior meetings or private rooms I would never be allowed in. And I was attentive to the fact that there were many things I wasn't aware of either, but I certainly didn't expect this. This room was basically a hideaway with music, drinking and pretty much anything else you'd expect to see in a place like this. It was packed with Saviors, many of them high ranking, but there were a few lower ranked ones, too. I think I was the only one present who hardly had a rank at all. Some people were dancing, some drinking and talking closely with one another, while others were playing games, cheering each other on. I suppose even the bad guys need time to unwind- killing the undead and plundering the living could be hard work.

Some people gave me disdainful looks as Dwight led me through the dim and smoky room. I could almost hear their thoughts without having to ask. It was evident I didn't belong here and no one was fond that I was. I felt extremely uncomfortable as I looked to my right and saw a topless woman dancing on a man, her breasts buried in his ecstatic face. _Oh God_ , I thought and closed my eyes with a cringe. Considering all of the bliss that resided here, it was strangely depressing to see.

Dwight routed me to a dingy corner of the room in which sat the only circular booth table in the place, and of course, the man which all of this was for was reclined in the middle, ever enigmatic and enthusiastic. On his left sat Simon and situated at the end was Daryl with a vexatious look on his face. He was no longer dressed in a soiled sweater suit, but donned his regular attire, vest and all. I smiled at the sight.

"Damn, I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that before," Negan spoke loudly over the music. "I fucking like it."

My face relaxed back to its neutral state at his words and I saw him chuckle. He patted the empty pleather next to him, indicating for me to take a seat. I slid in next to him, wanting more than anything to be by Daryl, but knew I couldn't be. Dwight sat on the end beside me, blocking the only exit that I had. Negan tucked an arm behind me on the back of the booth, similar to how he did in his office over a week ago. It brought back unpleasant memories.

I glanced at Daryl to see his look of vexation turn to fury. Negan caught it and lifted a finger at him, raising his eyebrows with an admonishing smile. Daryl looked away.

"Simon, pour our new friends a drink," Negan said, picking up a burning cigarette from an ashtray in front of him. He took a long drag, holding it in as he turned to me and then slowly blew it out. I kept my eyes on him as he smirked, the smoke a hazy fog between us.

Simon reached for an unmarked bottle on the table, pouring a small amount of clear liquid into three glasses. He slid one to each of us, Dwight getting the first and fullest; he wasted no time in draining it. Daryl didn't touch his at all, but I put a hand to mine and started to lift it to my lips. I looked at Daryl to see him give a slight shake of his head, his eyes a warning, and I put the glass back down.

"You know, you fucks _almost_ got away with that shit you pulled a couple of weeks ago, plotting to escape out of here with my guns," Negan started amiably, like he was reminiscing on good times. "I thought about even letting you guys go through with it to see how far you'd get. I was pumping myself up for _the_ _most dangerous game_. I've never actually hunted down a human before and I was mighty hungry for the experience," he laughed at the reference. "However, I am smart enough to realize that sometimes things don't always go the way you've planned. I would've been terribly disappointed in myself if I had given you fucks the chance to get away. That would've been the motherfucking loss of the year, for sure."

I looked away from him and down at the glass in my hand, turning it around and around on the table with my finger tips. Daryl didn't move, choosing instead to stare at Negan.

"But what's done is done. You guys got a well deserved ass kicking and you've grown from it. No sense lingering in the past, am I right? Now, buck the fuck up, buttercups, and take a fucking drink before I force this whole handle down your goddamned throats," Negan finished with a smile, smashing his burnt down cigarette in an ashtray.

I picked up my drink without hesitation, wanting it desperately anyway; I would need some damn alcohol to get through this godforsaken meeting, if you could even call it that. I had only held myself back because of Daryl's subtle protest, but I used Negan's threat as an excuse to go ahead and do it anyway. It tasted horrible, a trail of flames spreading all the way down my throat to my stomach.

"What the hell is this stuff?" I choked out, scrunching up my face in disgust.

"It's an original brew, my dear," Simon leaned over the table to answer me, looking proud. "Think of it as a very watered down Everclear, about 90 proof or so. Want some more?"

"You made this?" I inquired.

"Hey, good alcohol is hard to come by in the post-apocalyptic world," he answered in a mock admonishing way. "We're in hard times here and that means you gotta take up some damn vocations if you want anything you had before. I just happened to want liquor."

"This is liquid fire," I retorted with narrowed eyes. Simon's eyes went wide as he sat up abruptly, choking slightly on the sip he had taken.

"I love it!" He exclaimed seriously. " _Liquid fire_. How did I not think of that before?"

He turned to Negan with a searching expression and the latter let out a brief, genuine laugh. Simon wiggled his eyebrows at me, giving me a toothy grin so that his eyes crinkled at the sides and tipped his glass to his mouth to swallow another sip. I rolled my eyes, knowing full well he was making fun of me, but I chose to ignore it and took another burning sip from own my glass. I looked at Dwight who had had no problem emptying his glass and he looked glazed over. I felt slightly amused before seeing how miserable he was, his scarred face red and doleful.

Negan seemed to enjoy the exchange between Simon and I, but focused his attention on Daryl instead, reaching over to inch his glass closer to him.

"I take you for one who has a keen taste of homemade infusions. I'm sure you were selling moonshine out of your toilet before your bumpkin ass ended up here. Try it, you just might like it."

Daryl gave him a long look and made a grab for the glass. He held it in his hand, tipping it back and forth against the table. Negan started to slowly lean forward with a small smile on his face as he waited for Daryl to take a drink. Daryl brought the glass up to his mouth and threw it back, downing it effortlessly in one swallow. He slammed the glass back down with a grimace.

"Verdict's in?" Negan asked, tapping a finger against the wood of the table.

"I've had better," Daryl answered gruffly.

"Oh, shit!" Negan smiled and looked at Simon. "You gonna let him talk shit like that?"

"I didn't expect any less from a backwoods boy. He's probably used to the taste of fermented horse piss," Simon taunted with a chuckle. Daryl shot him a glare.

"Oh, we're just busting your balls, Daryl. We're all friends here," Negan said as he leaned back. "See how fun things can be when you give in a little? It can be like this all the time. You just have to remember who you are…"

They exchanged meaningful looks, Negan's advising and Daryl's indignant. Simon broke the tension by leaning forward and pouring some more liquid fire into Daryl's glass.

"You look like you could use it," Simon said with an artificially concerned expression, patting him on the back. "Chug-a-lug, buddy!"

Daryl only sat there, but he did let his hand drift to the glass again. His eyes roved to mine and he pushed his lips together signaling that he was over this and I arched an eyebrow at him in response that said, _Me too_.

"Alright," Negan sighed, taking his arm back from behind me, "It's time we got down to what I brought you two here for. I've got a proposition and I know for a damn fact you won't say no, but I'll pretty it up for you anyway.

"I know that we didn't get off on the right foot. I took you guys away from what was probably your first home in a long damn while, correct?" Negan gave us both an inquisitive look. He seemed sincere, all traces of his previous mirth temporarily gone. "I did that for a reason, however much you might hate my fucking guts for it, but I needed you two. I didn't just bring you here solely as punishment for what you and your group of asshole lickers did to me, but I saw potential and I'm ready to cash that in."

He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. He pointed a finger at Daryl, "You are one hell of a man. I put you through the fucking wringer and you're still badass as hell. You look just the same as you did when you first got here, and I'll be damned if that isn't mighty resilient of you!

"And you," he turned towards me, shifting his body so that his knee hit mine, "I wasn't sure what I expected out of you, but certainly not what you gave me. I have to admit that I am _extremely_ fucking glad I chose you as my second pick because, truth be told sweetheart, these dark walls in this occasionally unholy ass place light the fuck up when I'm with you. It's a damn crying shame we met under the circumstances that we did because I bet we could've been great _fucking_ friends otherwise."

The meaning of his last statement wasn't lost on me. _It will be a cold day in hell before I'm anything other than a prisoner to you_ , I thought contemptuously. My thoughts must've been clear on my face because Simon snorted a laugh into his drink.

"Hey, maybe with a little time the extreme dislike she seems to feel for you will turn to true love. Happened to me with my ex-wife except the other way around," Simon quipped as he leaned against the table, his glass still against his lips.

"Very true, Simon," Negan said as a slight smile dimpled his face. He directed narrowed eyes toward Dwight. Dwight responded to the overtone of his comment with a neutral look and silence.

"But in the meantime, I'm happy just to have you around, darlin'," Negan put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him, settling his body closely next to mine; his fingers grazed my right arm and they moved back and forth across my skin languidly. I stiffened, feeling awkward. I didn't dare look at Daryl. I could only imagine too well the sort of look he was giving Negan right now.

"Oh, man," he continued, "I've gone and gotten myself distracted. Where was I, Simon?"

"You were about to offer the vagrants a chance at a meaningful life," Simon answered.

"Oh, right," Negan looked down with furrowed eyebrows. He shot Daryl a wide smile and smacked the table with a loud thump, rattling our glasses on top. He tightened his arm around me. "Your lives are about to change for the better, my friends! I'm gonna take the both of you on as my new novices and you guys should consider it quite the privilege seeing as I never do this. You're still newborn babes, butt-ass naked and squalling at the hairy, crusty teat of the new world. I'm gonna make sure that you guys grow into something to be glori-damn-fied and feared. You'll be learning from the very best. Thank me whenever you're ready."

I looked at Daryl who sat grumpily and didn't look thankful at all. I could only sit there against Negan, not daring to move a muscle other than my wary eyes. Negan whistled out across the room at someone and a familiar blond haired man walked up to the table.

"The-o- _dore_! My man," Negan gave the guy a large grin.

I squinted my eyes at him, trying to figure why he looked so familiar, and then I knew. He was the Savior that Suzanne had warned me about, the one who had been watching me. He threw a dark smile my way.

"Yes?" Theodore asked subserviently.

"It was you," I whispered to him, leaning forward against the table to get a closer look. Suddenly, it all came flooding back; the first night Daryl stayed in the common area, the whispered threats from the darkness and a barely visible face looming angrily up at me. How could I not have remembered that?

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, didn't I?" Negan answered. He grabbed the glass from my hand and took a small swig. "Ole Teddy here made me well aware of your and Daryl's secret mission. Turns out, you guys aren't as fucking sneaky as you thought you were. He caught on rather quickly after watching you for a while after you pissed him off, and he came to me to let me know all about it. I like that shit. That's the type of shit that I fucking appreciate. So, I gave him a much needed promotion. And look at him now. He's as fucking cool as a bull's balls in winter."

I glowered at Theodore, wishing for him to drop dead right then and there. He smirked at me and crossed his arms, standing in a solidly arrogant stance. Negan gripped my bicep, his arm still wrapped around my shoulders, and pulled me back to his side. I looked over at Daryl who gripped his glass so hard his knuckles turned white. I took a few deep breaths, not really sure what I was afraid of but only knew that I just was.

"Hey, calm the fuck down, people. Like I said, let's let bygones be bye-they're-fucking-gone," Negan emphasized his point with a small wave. "You did some shit to me, I did some shit to you. We're even stevens, partners! Actually, I don't think you guys have loosened up enough yet, so maybe this next part will help. We are going to take a much needed trip to Alexandria in the AM and you two sorry shits are gonna come along for the ride!"

My heart skipped a beat. I would be getting out of here? My wide, hopeful eyes found Daryl's but he didn't seem as excited. That was probably smart of him, but I couldn't stop the uncontrollable joy that sprung up in my chest. Could this finally be our chance?

"Don't get any bright ideas," Negan's mouth was instantly to my ear, his breath a hot trickle down my neck. "I can read that look on your face from a mile away. You're still mine, no matter where you are at in this world. Don't ever forget that."

Negan pulled back to address Daryl too with his next words, "Which leads me to my next name of the game. This is your chance to prove yourself to me. _Do not_ fuck it up. You will be sorely fucking sorry if you do, and I think you both are intelligent enough to understand what the fuck I mean. Correct?"

He gave us a speculated look to see if we got it. I nodded my head quickly and Daryl made a grunting noise of consent.

"Perfect!" Negan beamed and focused on Theodore again. "Bring Roxanne over here. I want her to meet Daryl."

"Oooooh, Roxanne," Simon salaciously smirked as Theodore left the table. He looked to Negan. "You're gonna make me jealous over here."

"Don't worry, drink some more liquid fire and you'll forget all about it in the morning," Negan replied. He took another sip of my drink and then held the glass up to my lips, beckoning for me to drink it, too. I did and his smile was sweet; it sent a bolt of electric shock to coil around the flames already in my belly.

"Dwighty, boy," he smacked the table in front of Dwight. The latter looked up drunkenly with half-lidded eyes.

"Yeah?" he slurred out.

"You gonna make it there, buddy? You don't look so damn good," Negan's face was an expression of amused concern. Dwight huffed out a chafed, acerbic laugh.

"I'm fine," he firmly assured and attempted to pour more liquor into his cup, sloshing some on the table.

Negan's hand slammed over the top of his glass, his fingers closing on top of Dwight's. They gave each other a hard stare before Dwight eventually backed down and looked away. I smiled secretly to myself.

"I think you're done," Negan decided and pulled the glass from Dwight's now limp hand, setting it to the side.

The intensity of the moment was interrupted by Theodore who strode back up to the table, a pretty woman by his side. Excuse me, a pretty, _half-clothed_ woman by his side. I groaned inwardly because I could only guess what kind of catastrophe was about to unfold for everyone to see. I sunk further down into the soft pleather of the booth.

"Hey, Roxie," Simon sang out with a flirty smile. She gave him an exaggeratedly coquettish wink in response. I would've laughed if the situation had been different and we were among friends, but I was too anxious and we weren't. Daryl was flat out pissed.

"Thank you, Theodore," Negan dismissed him and Theodore gave a nod before backing away. I glared after him with a silent promise to myself that I'd settle things with him at a later date.

"Daryl, this here is Roxanne. She's one of our more… _approachable_ women in the Sanctuary. She's a savior of a different kind if you can pick up what I'm laying down. I think you two might hit it off." Negan gave her an expectant look, "Roxanne?"

Roxanne smiled enticingly at Daryl and sauntered up to him to place a light hand on his shoulder. He shifted back uncomfortably, not looking up at her.

"I'm good," Daryl declined, taking a gulp from his glass.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Negan remarked sarcastically, his smile gone. "Is this making you uncomfortable? You look like this is making you uncomfortable. If you were a fucking queer, all you had to do was say so, Daryl. We don't hold secrets here."

Daryl fixed Negan with a direct glare, his jaw muscles working hard under his skin. Negan suddenly laughed, throwing his head back.

"I'm busting your balls again, dickhead! Sheee-ut! Have some damn fun. Roxanne?" Negan tipped his head toward Daryl and she grabbed his hand with an attractive lift of her full lips.

She pulled Daryl up and sat him in a wooden chair close to the table. As she started giving him a lap dance I placed a hand over my face, one eye peeking out at the spectacle. To be honest, she wasn't a half bad dancer. It helped that she was good-looking and fit, but Daryl was not amused in the least. I could tell he felt humiliated and I wanted nothing more than to stop what was happening.

"Maybe I'll let her give you the next song," Negan whispered to me.

I put my hand down and looked at him with an alarmed expression. _No fucking way_ , I yelled in my head. I didn't care if he brought Lucille out and shoved her wired head in my mouth, I wasn't doing it. He laughed at me.

"I can bust your balls, too, kid," he rasped and brought his face down until his lips met mine.

* * *

 **Hey guys, I bet you're all ready for the season to start back Sunday. I know I am! I'm curious to see what happens this second half. (I'm personally hoping for a background episode on Negan. That'd be aaaawesoooome!)**

 **Big thanks to lolasskicker for being my beta! Saves me a whole lot of trouble and they rock at it, so win-win. :D Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Negan was warm against me, the softness of his lips a shock. The warmth from my belly began to spread up my chest and into my cheeks as he deepened the kiss, his tongue a wet dart on my bottom lip, and I quickly pulled away from him, a hand on his chest to push him back. I snapped my head in Daryl's direction, but he was busy getting a face full of swinging hair to see what had happened.

"Don't do that," I said as my heartbeat continued to race under my dully aching ribs.

"Why not?" He drawled out softly.

He brought a hand up to my neck and rubbed a thumb along my jaw. I could smell the liquor on him, and I didn't know how much he had drank before I arrived, but I could tell he was a bit buzzed now. He began to lean in close to me again, his pupils dilated and his lips slightly parted. I pushed against him again. It was clear he was feeling a certain type of way and I didn't want to be the subject of it.

"Because I told you not to," I sharply replied in an even tone. I hoped Daryl was still distracted because I could see an altercation happening if he saw what was going on, and he would lose big time.

"Don't make me beg for it, Everly," he said blithely.

"Why would I want you to?" I asked him sincerely, leaning back away from him. "You're a fucking monster. Why would I want to be anywhere near you after what you've done to me and those that I love?"

Negan lifted his eyes to the ceiling, a pensive look on his face as he pretended to think about it. He brought his gaze back to down to meet mine, his teeth a flash of white in the dim light.

"You don't have to like me to fuck me," his eyes intently held mine. "It's not like I'm asking you to be one of my wives. I've just got a bitch of an itch only you can scratch at the moment."

"No," I shook my head at him. "My answer will always be no, so you might as well get used to the frustration now."

I could feel the small laugh he let out vibrate under my restraining hand.

"If you fucking say so, sweetheart," and he sat back, loosening his arm around me with a sigh.

We all looked at Daryl who sat rigidly in the chair as Roxanne danced nimbly on him, her hips gyrating down his length. I felt suddenly very angry and wanted to snatch her by the hair to throw her across the room.

"That's enough," Negan barked, the timbre of his voice matching the annoyance I felt. "He doesn't fucking like you. Go away."

Roxanne stood up quickly, a hurt look on her face, and walked off dejectedly. Daryl straightened his vest, casting a good riddance glance her way and sat back down at the booth.

"Welp, it's gettin' late and I'm horny as hell," Negan smacked the table and sent me a playful grin. "I think I'll go visit one of my wives before hittin' the hay. You two should head to bed, too. We've got a long ass day ahead of us tomorrow, and I want you both bright eyed and bushy tailed come sunrise. So…"

Dwight stood up, and I slid out quickly after him, not having to be told twice to get the fuck out. Daryl came up close behind me as we made our exit after a clumsy Dwight. I was surprised he was walking as well as he was and managing to make it back up to the ground floor without incident. I also found it astonishing that Negan had let him take us back considering his inebriated state, but maybe he trusted us enough now to know that we wouldn't try anything. I wasn't sure if that was stupid of him or smart of us.

"Remind me to never go back there again," Daryl spoke softly behind my left shoulder.

"Do you consider Roxanne's dance the reach around or the fucking over?" I teased, trying to brighten our dampened moods.

"Mmph," Daryl gave me a slight smirk. "She wasn't so bad, I guess."

"You've had better?" I quirked an eyebrow at him, referencing his early comment to Simon.

"Eh," he replied, his lips curving up the sides of his face.

I faced forward again and closed my eyes briefly in relief. I knew by the lack of a reaction back at the hideaway that Daryl hadn't seen the exchange between Negan and me. The playful back and forth between us just now confirmed that.

"Do you think…?" I began to ask in a low murmur out of the corner of my mouth.

"No," Daryl muttered close to my ear, understanding what I meant. "We comply until we've got a solid plan. Or try to."

I nodded my head, filling my lungs up with air and heaving it back out. It did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest.

"I'll come get you guys in the morning," Dwight told us monotonously as he dropped us off at the common doors. He walked off without another word, not even giving us a "fuck you" glance over his shoulder.

Daryl and I stood in the deserted hallway for a moment, looking at each other in muted conversation. We would get one day of liberty tomorrow, but we were still bound by restrictions. I told myself that I would need to behave and not to do anything rash. We would be back around our family, and we can't do anything to endanger their lives while we were there, no matter what.

"Let's get some rest," he finally said, bringing his hand up to run over my arm to my shoulder. I nodded and he followed me inside.

* * *

"Goooood morning!" Negan beamed at Dwight, Daryl and me as we walked out into the frigid morning air.

"Morning. Gonna go get my ride," Dwight called to Negan with a small wave and walked off. He seemed to be in an okay state today, much to my surprise.

The day had barely broken, the sky just starting to turn pink behind the trees and buildings that were rooted around the Sanctuary. I gave Negan a grumpy look, annoyed by his boisterous greeting, but I was also excited. Elation was pumping through my veins, making me so high that I felt like I was on cloud nine, but I worked to calm myself down because I knew that bubble of euphoria could be popped at any second.

Negan took in a big, dramatic breath of the crisp air, throwing his head back and his arms out, Lucille dangling in his gloved right hand. He had his eyes closed and an exulted smile on his face as he exclaimed, "It's gonna be a beautiful fucking day!"

He opened his eyes to look at us, bringing his arms back down to his sides. Daryl let out a small groan next to me and I softly elbowed him in the side.

"You don't agree, Daryl?" Negan asked, creasing his brows. Daryl just grumbled again.

"He agrees," I said as I tugged on his wrist. "Right?"

 _Don't…ruin it!_ I yelled at him with my eyes. He sighed silently.

"Yeah, it's a, uh...beautiful fuckin' day," he conceded monotonously.

Negan gave him a warm smile, leaning back and snapping his fingers at him, "Damn fucking straight it is."

He leisurely walked up to us with Lucille propped up on his shoulder and the sunlight breaking out on the top of her spiked head. He stopped directly in front of us and fixed on Daryl with a serious look, his eyes holding his in a silent staring contest. He leaned closer to him.

"Now, here's what I'm expecting out of you and, seeing as you've already declared yourself mine, this shouldn't come as too much of a fucking shock. And sure, you don't exactly seem like the morning person type, so I'll chalk this piss poor attitude you're sulking around with up to that, but let me spread this shit out for you," he stopped to glance my way, letting me know this was for me too. "Right now, you aren't anything but fucking reminders. Those people, your family and friends, they're just barely hanging on by a fucking thread. You're going there to show them how goddamn easy it'll be for me to snag that last motherfucking strand," he snapped his fingers. "You won't talk to them, you won't hug them, you won't look at them. Hell, I don't want you to even acknowledge them if you can help it. Today is initiation day, so take a big fucking whiff and get used to the stink now. It'll go much more smoothly for you if you do it right away."

Negan stopped, calculating our reactions. My bubble was official popped and my shoulders slumped. This is not what I wanted and the subsequent disappointment I felt was just the downer I needed to turn this "beautiful fucking day" into shit.

"What?" He started back, a smile dimpling his bearded cheeks. "You didn't think this was it, did you? That I'd let you two assholes off this easy, huh? Give you some fucking freedom, let you make some damn decisions for yourself," he chuckled, biting his lower lip slightly and his gaze meeting Daryl's. "You might've said my name, hill _billy_ , but that don't mean shit until you prove it to me. So…prove it to me! So far, you're doing a shitty damn job and it's only the butt crack of dawn!"

He laughed, amused with himself. He looked directly at me now, jutting his jaw to one side and drawing in air from one corner of this mouth. He was considering something.

"When we get there, remember who you are. Remember who you belong to. I'm your family. I'm your friend," he brought a hand up to caress my jaw, his thumb running over my cheek. "Those people are just memories now, but I'm the real fucking deal and I'm all you have. Don't let me down."

He patted the side of my face gently and gave Daryl one last warning look and he topped it off with a Cheshire cat grin. He grabbed the sleeve of my jacket to pull me to him, snaking an arm around my waist and began to guide me away. He jerked his head at Daryl whose attitude had turned ten notches surlier, but he followed after us nonetheless.

Negan led us to a large burgundy pickup truck where some Saviors were getting several other vehicles ready. I noticed the box truck from the night Negan had me defend myself and Daryl from a gang of walkers and I shivered. Negan must've noticed because he began to run a hand up and down my waist.

"I can warm you up if you want," he murmured to me and I replied with a glare. He pinched my side and I looked away quickly.

 _We're hopeless_ , I mentally kicked myself. Even though Daryl and I had agreed to cooperate, it was hard to play along with someone that I hated with every fiber of my being. I didn't know how we were going to make it through the day or any other day hereafter. I had started the morning off in a good mood, but now it was permanently gone.

"I want to apologize," Negan said to me as we stopped by the truck. He gazed at Daryl briefly and opened the back door, motioning for him to get in. Daryl did so after a slight hesitation and Negan slammed the door shut after him.

"About last night," he continued softly, putting a hand at the top of the truck to lean against it. "I shouldn't have come onto you so strongly or kissed you when I know you didn't want it. Women normally respond pretty willingly when I come onto them, but I guess I got my signals mixed up drinking all that _liquid fire_ ," he gave me a small smile, "and I'm sorry."

"Oh, uh" I stammered, confused. _Negan_ was apologizing to _me_? Negan was _apologizing_? "Usually I would say that's okay, but it's not."

Negan quirked an eyebrow up, a clear indication that he wasn't pleased with my response. This had to be a very unusual occurrence for him; to apologize so sincerely without a joke or a threat shoved behind it. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, it's fine," I said, gritting my teeth together. "At least you stopped when I told you to."

"Well, don't think it won't be my last attempt, though," his arrogant smile was back. "I'm gonna get a kiss out of you one way or another. I can feel it!"

I gaped at him in disbelief. The apology had seemed sincere, but I should've known the jokes would come. He winked as he pushed off the truck and stepped backward to open the passenger side door. As he leaned into the cabin, I heard him softly say, "Here's me crossin' my fingers for more than just a kiss."

He set Lucille gingerly inside the truck and turned back to face me with a smile; he knew I had heard him. I crossed my arms over my chest, steeling myself for whatever he was going to say or do next. A chuckle escaped him as he eyed me.

"It's gonna be a few hours drive to the big A. You'll be in the back with Daryl and Theodore. Figured you guys needed to make up if we're gonna make this whole being-part-of-the-team-thing work. Make sure," Negan smacked the window where Daryl watched us intently from inside, "this one doesn't do anything fucking stupid. I'm trying hard to condition the man, but those country cousin genes he's got in him are strong."

"Will do," I consented unhappily.

"That's my girl," he smiled at me, bucking my chin softly with his knuckles. "Get in the truck."

* * *

I sat in the back with Daryl while Theodore lounged between us comfortably. An hour had already passed and I snarled silently, resting my head against the window to watch the trees pass by. I didn't remember too much of being transported to the Sanctuary, it seemed so long ago, but I did know that it was about halfway between Alexandria and Hilltop. This day was going to get worse, I could feel it.

"So," Negan chirped up and turned to look back at us, "this shit it getting boring as fuck. Let's play a little game to pass the time, shall we? It's called twenty questions. Now, I'm gonna bend the rules a bit because I've got a specific subject in mind that I want some answers to and that subject is your lives. I wanna know who you guys were before this cluster fuck happened," he gestured to a small group of walkers staggering off the side of the road. "I'm a curious fucking bunny and I thought this way might make the questioning more enjoyable."

I leaned forward and glanced past Theodore to check on Daryl. He stared sullenly out of the window, a hand to his mouth and not paying Negan any mind. Negan pointed back at him to get his attention, "You're going first, bud! Ya' ready?"

Daryl aimed his eyes at Negan before looking over at me. I raised my eyebrows at him to signal that he'd better play along. This day was already shitty and I didn't want him to make it any worse. Daryl dropped his hand down, positioning himself to face forward to give Negan his full attention. I sat back to see Negan grinning at me with a knowing smile and he winked.

"That's more fucking like it!" He expressed and rubbed his hands together in enthusiasm. "First question, where were you born?"

"Georgia," Daryl mumbled.

"Okay, okay," Negan nodded his head. "I was thinking more Alabama or maybe Mississippi considering that clodhopper look you got, but close enough. Boys, don't feel afraid to join in at any time."

Theodore and the chauffeuring Savior I was unfamiliar with smiled at Negan and he continued.

"Got any family still?"

"No," Daryl replied.

"Got a girlfriend?" The driving Savior asked. Negan shot me a quick look.

"No," Daryl said.

"Did you have a girlfriend before?" Theodore asked.

"No," Daryl sighed.

"Have you ever had a fucking girlfriend? Don't tell me you've never been laid," Negan asked incredulously.

"Yes..."

"It wasn't your fucking pet pig, was it?" The driver asked. Theodore laughed out.

"Holy shit, you fucked pigs?" Negan asked with a mocking smile.

Daryl sighed again through closed lips and his hand balled into a fist. I could tell he was about to lose it, so I quickly chimed in, "What did you do for work before?"

Everyone looked over at me like had I ruined the fun; everyone except Daryl.

"I was a-" Daryl started, but Negan stopped him with a reprimanding sound like one would do to a dog.

"You didn't answer the other two questions," he said with a humorous squint of his eyes.

"No and no," Daryl growled out. "And I took whatever jobs I could get. I never had anything too steady."

"Psh, figures. I'd be surprised if you didn't get into the drug game," Theodore said. "That shit can be pretty lucrative if you're smart about it. Did it for a while myself in college."

"You moron," the driver spoke to Theodore. "Hicks don't sell drugs, they _do_ drugs. You did drugs, right?"

"No," Daryl answered, tapping his knee repetitively with a tight fist. The driver snorted and rolled his eyes, not believing him.

"Bullshit," he said. "If you didn't do drugs then what the hell _did_ you do?"

"Whatever the fuck I felt like," Daryl replied and I smiled. The driver huffed out an indignant laugh and shook his head unbelievingly.

"Oh, it's okay there, Freddy. I'm sure Daryl's being honest with us. Besides, we haven't gotten to the real questions yet," Negan patted him on the shoulder and looked back to Daryl.

"How was your life growing up? Was it hard?" Negan asked, digging around for something juicy; for something he could maybe use to his advantage later.

"Lonely and at times," was all Daryl said. I wanted to hold his hand, but instead I had fuck face next to me. I crossed my arms.

"Oh, come on," Theodore threw his hands up. "You've gotta give us more than that. Why was it lonely? What made it hard?"

Daryl's leg was bobbing up and down. It was clear he was growing anxious and angrier. If he was anything like me, he was going to shut down soon and his temper would probably get the best of him.

"Just look at me," I leaned over so he could see me. "Just talk to me."

No one disagreed, and Daryl lifted his brooding blue eyes to look at me. He didn't speak for a moment, just stared, and we all waited patiently. Finally he said, "I mostly took care of myself, and sometimes my older brother was there to help when he wasn't in juvie. I didn't have a mother and my father was a worthless fuckin' drunk, so I guess you could say I learned my own way."

"What happened to your mother?" Negan asked, a curious and sympathetic look on his face.

Daryl kept his eyes on me and only said, "She died in a fire when I was young. Saw it all."

"Shit, Christ," Freddy whispered, looking at Daryl through the review mirror. "You've got one fucked up childhood."

I couldn't say anything but I felt my heart breaking for him. Daryl and I were friends, we got along very well and enjoyed each other's company, but I realized suddenly that we didn't know much about each other's histories. I stared into his sad, blue eyes, feeling at a complete loss.

Negan let out a sigh and slapped his leg, a small, awkward smile forming on his face, "Well that shit turned dark fucking quick."

Theodore let out a soft snort, chuckling to himself. Freddy didn't say a thing, keeping himself facing toward the road in front of him. I narrowed my eyes at Negan, but he only flashed me a smile and turned his head to look back at Daryl.

"I've got five more. Maybe we can lighten the mood back up a little," Negan said. Daryl looked away from me and back out the window. "That crossbow Dwight took from you…were you any good with it?"

Daryl nodded his head, still looking out the window. I placed a hand on the back of Freddy's seat, leaning slightly over Theodore. _Look at me!_ I willed Daryl silently. I needed him to look at me so that he could see I was here. I was here for him.

"Stop acting like a child, Daryl, and use your words," Negan told him firmly. Daryl sat back against his seat, leaning his head against the rear window. His blank eyes found mine and he seemed to relax marginally.

"Yeah," he vocalized.

"You were a hunter?" Negan continued.

"And a tracker. I spent most of my time in the woods. I'm good at surviving on my own," Daryl added and dropped his gaze from mine to look at his lap.

"I bet you are," the corners of Negan's mouth began to lift up. "How far can you shoot? What's your accuracy?"

"Well, with a crossbow not too damn far. Maybe about 70 yards if I'm lucky enough. I use the bow more than a gun, but I'm good at it either."

"Last one and you're off the hook," Negan said with a broad smile, enjoying the game again. "You know that whatever I say goes. I know you know that. Are you prepared to do what I tell you to, no questions asked?"

Daryl lifted his eyes up to level them with Negan's. This was probably the most significant question he had asked him so far. This was a tell-all of how much Negan had a hold of Daryl; if he would do what was requested of him without thought. It was just another way of Negan asking Daryl who he was and expecting his name to come tumbling out of his complying mouth.

"Yeah," Daryl said and I closed my eyes, sitting back against my seat. Even though I knew he had to say it, it wasn't the answer I wanted to hear.

* * *

 **Thank you again for your reviews. I'm loving them!**

 **Edited by lolasskicker**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

We bumped along the abandoned road, stray dead leaves flying out as we passed by. Fall would be here soon which would make the possibility of another attempted escape much more difficult as the weather became colder. We just might be unlucky enough to have to wait until spring if we couldn't figure anything out within the next few weeks. I was hoping against hope that we would come across some sort of opportunity while in Alexandria, find a way to stay or escape somehow, but I knew it was only wishful thinking.

Daryl continued to mope out of the window as did I. Negan had stopped his game of twenty questions to correspond with the other caravans behind and ahead of us. The break was a relief but I knew it would start back up soon and I would be the one in the hot seat. I wasn't exactly ready for what they were going to ask, but I told myself that I could be as truthful as I wanted to be. They wouldn't know the difference otherwise.

"Keep the same distance. I want you to arrive a few minutes ahead of us to get everyone prepared before we show up," Negan let go of the button on the walkie-talkie, bringing it down and looking out of the window as he waited for a response.

"Copy that," a voice crackled out and the walkie went dead. Negan tossed it up onto the dashboard and put his arm across the space between him and Freddy. He flicked his brown eyes over his shoulder at me and they crinkled with a smile. _Your turn_ , he seemed to be thinking.

"Same rules apply, sugarplum, and don't get cute. I wanna know some real fucking information here. This is family bonding time!" Negan reached back to squeeze my knee and I moved my leg away from his touch. He gave me a fake pout.

"Well, I guess we gotta start somewhere," Negan said and turned his body to lean back against the passenger side door. "I'll start off easy again. Where are you from?"

"Georgia," I replied.

"Not the same area as Daryl, though," Negan squinted his eyes at me. "That's fairly obvious. I bet you were right near Atlanta if not living in the city itself."

I shrugged my shoulders. It wasn't a question, but an observation. I had no obligation to elaborate any further unless he asked me to.

"Have you been with Daryl since the beginning or did you guys meet up somewhere?" He continued.

"We met up a year and a half after everything happened. The whole group found me," I said. "I started off with other people, a small band of us. When some of us started dying off, everyone panicked and eventually just started to fend for themselves. That whole thing lasted about a year, and then I drifted north on my own for a few months until they found me."

"So, you're a fucking survivor, too, huh?" Negan asked, then his eyes widened marginally. "Don't answer that! That was rhetorical."

I smiled slightly despite myself, finding his reaction a bit humorous. I didn't know if he did it on purpose or not. He was always so articulate, if not in a vulgar sort of way. He thought things through and stated his thoughts clearly. It was a bit strange to hear him say something impulsively.

"What I want to ask is how did they find you?" Negan said.

"Almost starved to death and severely dehydrated," I answered, remembering the hot asphalt on my skin as I lay weakly on the road, unable to go any further. "I really thought that was it for me. And then I saw Rick and the others. They were just about as bad as I was, but we made it through. They are the most persevering and kindred group I have yet to meet."

"How sweet," Theodore sang out facetiously. I cut a sharp glare at him.

"It fucking is, Theo," Negan fixed him with a slightly annoyed smile. "I know you haven't wiped your own ass this whole time, pretty boy. Maybe we should throw your punk ass out to give you the damn experience."

Theodore cleared his throat, clearly caught off guard and embarrassed, and shook his head. I could say that I felt the same because I didn't know why Negan wanted to stick up for me all of a sudden. I thought Daryl and I were both fair game when it came to the insults.

"So, you've only known the Alexandria clan for, what," Negan shrugged and shook his head questioningly, "several months, not even half a year?"

"Basically," I said. I had pretty much met Rick and everyone a couple of months before we ended up in Alexandria. That didn't mean I hadn't made any strong bonds with them; that they weren't my family. "The people in Alexandria offered us shelter and we took it. Their community provided safety and a home when they could've left us outside to die. They're our family now."

Negan lifted a finger at me, a devilish grin on his face, " _Were_ your family."

 _Remember?_ His facial expression seemed to say, and I did all too well. According to him, Alexandria and the occupants who lived there are no longer a part of my life nor Daryl's. Our new home was the Sanctuary and our kin the dumb assholes who called themselves the Saviors. _Saviors of fuck all_ , I fumed.

"Did _you_ have a girlfriend?" Freddy asked.

"Yeah, and if so, how old were you when you first realized you liked pussy?" Theodore piped back up, his previous mirth back in full force.

"No," I glared up at the review mirror before turning to Theodore, setting him up with direct stare and lowering my voice, "and I've always known, Theodore."

Daryl shot up to look over at me. Theodore's eyes got wide and I heard not a sound from the front cabin of the truck. I slowly looked around, my face relaxing back to normal, and realized every pair of eyes were trained on me. I blushed.

"I'm just kidding," I said abashedly. The joke went better, or worse, than I had planned and I did not like all the attention it brought.

"Bull-fucking-shit!" Negan yelled happily. "I think this may be the happiest damn day of my life, boys! I'm hard as hell right now!"

 _Oh, my God_ , I groaned inwardly. I might would've run with it, let them think I was into women and not men, but the goofy ass look that was plastered all over Negan's face made me instantly change my mind. It would be relentless pestering and begging from all the guys back at the Sanctuary, especially from Negan; he'd be the worst.

"Please, for the love of all that is holy, tell us about your first time with a woman. And don't skimp out on the details!" Theodore was so excited his face was turning red.

 _And there it is_ , I rolled my eyes and sighed loudly.

"First of all, that isn't a question. Second, I fucking lied, you asshole!" I yelled. "I'm not gay!"

"I don't knooow," Freddy sang out. "I think you may have to prove it to us now."

"Dear lord, if I had known I would've gotten this reaction, I wouldn't have said it," I ran a hand through my hair, flustered.

"You didn't know you would get this reaction? From us? A truck full of straight _men_?" Freddy asked me like I was stupid.

"You know the internet is gone, right?" Theodore asked. I scowled at him.

"I don't know what you expected, sweetheart, but this is about the most entertaining fucking thing I've seen all week," Negan laughed.

I sat back and crossed my arms stubbornly, feeling completely idiotic. Daryl was still leaning forward in his seat, his curious eyes on me. Theodore began to laugh hysterically and I sunk down into the cushions, hiding my face with a hand. This had really backfired on me.

"She's more fun," I heard Freddy say. "Daryl, she's got you beat so far."

"Next question!" I mumbled loudly from behind my hand.

"Okay," Negan began, "before we go on, I know everyone got excited by that amazing revelation-"

"Joke," I interceded.

"-but you fuckers need to think about what you're asking. I heard about four damn questions thrown out all at once and she didn't answer a single one of them. Everly," he focused his attention on me, "play by the fucking rules."

"Fine," I snapped at him and dropped my hand down. He smiled gleefully at me.

"Well, I can't wait for the rest of this," Freddy said, hunching forward over the steering wheel. Daryl sat back, but he was paying the utmost attention now and no longer glowering out of the window.

Negan got comfortable against his door again and drummed his gloved fingers on his knee, "What was your life like before? Any…complications or was everything just dandy?"

I took in a deep breath, getting ready to go into the one thing I was hoping to avoid. I wanted to keep the past the past. I didn't like agonizing over it, remembering it.

"It was fine, for a while," I started, trying to choose my next words carefully. "My father died when I was very young, nothing too tragic. He had cancer."

I saw Negan's chest hitch, the smile draining from his face. I continued, not really paying him any mind.

"He'd been sick for years, so we were really just wondering when _it_ would happen when finally it did. It wasn't too shocking, and honestly, nothing felt different afterward. He had been bedridden for almost a year, so I think I had pretty much mourned him and prepared myself as his health steadily declined. I was only numb."

"Great, now I'm bummed out again," Freddy said gloomily and sat back.

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl growled out.

"Hey!" Negan bellowed. "Let's not cause a big stink, now, Daryl. You're supposed to be on your best behavior."

Daryl made no response, but he still sat forward with a hard glare fixed on the back of Freddy's head, his muscles straining. Negan reached over the seat, putting his fingertips against Daryl's left shoulder and gingerly pushing him back; Daryl didn't resist and he sat against his seat again, settling his glare onto Negan now. Negan ignored him and let his gaze drift back over to me. His face looked amiable once more, but it also carried a tone of somber aggravation.

"And after?" He prompted.

"And after," I began, but I didn't want to go into anymore details of my life. I didn't want to talk to anyone about it and probably not ever. "After was normal."

Negan watched me, his brown eyes virtually piercing through me to read as much as he could from my body language. I could tell he didn't believe me, but he let it slide. I was thankful for that.

"Well, if you aren't a lesbian," Freddy heaved a great sigh of disappointment, "then do you have a special guy in your life?"

"You asking for a friend, there, Fred?" Theodore playfully punched him on the arm, and Freddy angrily swatted his hand away.

"Not at all, no," I answered cautiously. I didn't want to give them any leverage they could work with to twist my words around.

"Oof," Negan expressed and looked at Daryl, a playful look in his eyes again. "Tough break, man."

"We're friends," Daryl grumbled.

Theodore looked over at him and nodded mockingly, "Yeah, she's just got you perpetually stuck in the friend-zone, huh?"

"Was that twenty questions yet? Are we done?" I asked quickly, wanting to change the subject.

"Hey, I said play by the rules," Negan reprimanded me lightly. "You don't ask the damn questions, we do."

"Then do it!" My patience was starting to run thin.

"Oh, shit," Negan gave me a disbelieving look, his smile widening. "Yes, _ma'am_."

He let out that husky, drawn-out laugh of his and licked his bottom lip, "I'm warning you, though, you've already gotten me plenty hard so far, don't make me bust my buckle before we even get to our destination. I'll be walking bowlegged and hunched over all damn day."

"Aw, come on," Theodore began to sympathize, "she's not that much of a tease. You're not gonna leave the man with blue balls, are you?"

"That fucking counts as a question," Negan said before I could think of a response.

Irked by the direction this stupid game had taken, I leaned toward him, placing a hand on the back of Freddy's seat to steady myself. Negan leaned forward, too, intently watching my face with open delight.

"I could give a shit about your balls or any discomfort you might be feeling right now. In fact, I kind of enjoy the thought of you in pain. Makes my day a whole hell of a lot better," I said.

"Oh!" Negan fake shivered, enjoying this exchange immensely. "I believe I just came."

I rolled my eyes and sat back. It was a retort I should have expected, but it pissed me off anyway.

"Good job, you got him there," Theodore patted my shoulder. I elbowed his arm away violently. "Christ, are you always this bitchy?"

"Yes," I snapped.

"I don't know how you deal with her, man," Theodore turned to Daryl and was met with an ornery gaze. "Oh, right…"

"Okay, we're winding down here, guys. These last five questions need to count," Negan smirked.

"What's your favorite food?" Daryl asked suddenly and I swung my head at him with a disbelieving grin on my face.

"Marshmallow brownies," I sputtered out with a laugh and gave him a wink. He gave me a small smile back.

Negan seemed pretty miffed and a glaze of annoyance came over his eyes. He worked his jaw back and forth as he regarded Daryl.

"Not fucking cool," he told him.

"Why marshmallow brownies? That's not even a real food," Theodore spoke up, disregarding Negan.

"It was hi- _my_ favorite food," I stuttered, barely catching myself before saying something I couldn't take back. I had almost brought up the one thing I didn't want to talk about. I tried to play it cool, hoping no one could see how panicked I felt inside.

"Well, obviously it was your favorite food, genius. That's what the question asked," Theodore rolled his eyes at me. Daryl gave me a sideways look, a question in his eyes; he had caught my slip-up. I shook my head slightly at him.

"Alright, I'm taking you out all out of the game. It's only me and Everly now. You sorry fucks have lost the privilege," Negan said, irritated.

"What the hell did I do? I've been sitting here, quietly driving!" Freddy burst out.

"Well, for one goddamn thing, you started this whole chain of vapid fucking questions and got tag-along over here to follow suit. Then Cotton Eye Joe decided to pop a few hairs out of his nutsack and chime in with his dumbass question," Negan threw a thumb over his shoulder at Daryl. "I've got three shittin' fucking questions left, and I'm gonna make them count!"

"Sorry, we didn't know you were getting that into it," Freddy replied. "We're nearly there, though. About thirty more minutes."

Negan sat up, and turned his body to face forward. He looked at me over his shoulder, "We'll finish this later."

"Shit," Freddy sighed. "I said we're sorry."

"Freddy, I like you, but shut the hell up and keep driving before I dangle you out the door and make you kiss the ground. That'd be one hell of a road rash," Negan gave him a sideways look. The truck slowed down a notch, Freddy taking the threat seriously.

"Who would drive?" I whispered to myself sarcastically, but I was secretly happy. Negan wasn't going to make me answer anymore questions for the time being, and I hoped that by the end of our trip he will have forgotten all about his last three, but a feeling deep in my gut told me that it was wishful thinking again.

* * *

 **I just want to say thank you (I feel like I can never say it enough) for all your reviews and support and especially to all my guest reviewers! I'm very pleased that so many of your are still into this story and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that you continue to be. This chapter was a bit lighter than any of the other ones I've written, so I hope you guys liked it. (It makes me giggle when I read it. :D) Anyway! Have a fabulous weekend and get ready for the next episode. Negan's gonna be in it! YEEEE! Haha.**

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

The scenery was beginning to look familiar which meant we were getting close. My heartbeat sped up, my chest constricting with the excitement and uneasiness of what the rest of the day would hold; it could either get worse or better. I was hoping for the latter and crossed my fingers as the truck turned within sight of Alexandria's gate.

"Daryl," I whispered as I sat up on the edge of my seat, my hands gripping the back of Freddy's.

"I see," he said as he straightened up slightly.

Negan threw me a sideways smile, eyeing me, but I barely paid him any mind as we stopped in front of the open gate. Without thought, I threw open the door and bounded out, bypassing a group of muttering Saviors to see Rick waiting just beyond them. I heard the others exiting the truck when he saw me and he stopped dead in his tracks with wide blue eyes, his hands falling from his waist.

"Everly?" He seemed dumbfounded for a moment but then smiled.

I ran to him, tears nearly blinding me, and he held his arms out. I crashed into him, wrapping tight arms around his waist. He held me close in a warm embrace and breathed out a long sigh that could only be described as one of relief. I was relieved to see him, too. Rosita, Carl and Spencer were close by and I gave them a teary-eyed smile over Rick's shoulder, happy to see them and wanting to wrap them up in a tight hug as well. Their returning smiles died quickly as I heard footsteps behind me.

"Oh, my," Negan expressed as he sauntered over, "I didn't take your girl from you, did I, Rick?"

Rick loosened his arms from around me, casting sharp eyes at Negan over my shoulder. I turned, wiping tears from my cheeks, to see him slowly advancing on us, an agitated but cheeky look on his face.

"I thought for sure she might've been Daryl's, but I didn't know I was stepping into your territory," Negan cracked a smile at him, spinning Lucille lazily on his left shoulder.

"Negan," Rick greeted him as he took a step away from me.

I looked to the ground, my stomach twisting into knots. I had blatantly disobeyed the rules and we had barely been here for a minute. An instant pang of guilt went through me for giving Daryl shit earlier, and I looked at him to see that he was standing at the ready for anything to happen, his hands twitching at his sides.

Negan stopped within a few feet in front of us, his Saviors gathering round, and glanced at me. If it wasn't so clear before, a quick look in his disapproving brown eyes told me what I needed to know; I had messed up. He bent his head down, a smile still on his face, and crooked a finger at me, beckoning me to him. I obeyed.

He gripped my arm as I stepped up next to him, his gloved fingers digging in sharply through my jacket.

"Out of the two of you, I thought I could trust you better," his features were a show of disappointment as he whispered to me. I swallowed and looked up at him through my lashes, hoping I looked sorry enough to prevent anything violent from happening. Rosita and Carl walked up next to Rick, Spencer not too far behind. Negan gave me a long look, his eyes turning soft in amusement, and then turned to give them each a grand smile.

"Good morning, friends! I tell you, I sure am glad to see your bright ass faces this fine morning," Negan greeted them. Rosita curled her upper lip at him, her arms crossed stubbornly across her chest and the others remained passive. I vainly tried to brush off the affront, knowing Negan was mocking me. _"You won't talk to them, you won't hug them, you won't **look** at them."_ My face contorted to resemble Rosita's as I tried my best to look away from them. I wasn't doing the greatest of jobs at it, though.

Rick looked at me with a stoic expression, squinting his eyes against the morning sun, and I could tell by the way his jaw moved subtly back and forth that he didn't like the way Negan was holding me - how I had followed his orders.

From a distance, I heard the rumble of the rest of the caravan and the roaring grumble of a motorcycle's engine growing louder. Negan's head turned in relation to the noise, his hand still a strong anchor on my arm, as Dwight came riding through the gates and wheeled to a stop near us. He propped the motorcycle up and stepped off to join the growing tension of our mismatched group, but it looked as if he had his sights set on a specific someone.

"Rosita!" Dwight sang out loudly, giving her a hearty, scarred smile. "How's my favorite Alexandrian?"

"What the hell is it to you, dickless?" Rosita sassed at him with fiery eyes.

"Oooh, lo siento!" Dwight apologized buoyantly, strolling up to stop a few feet away from her. "Is that any way to treat a guest?"

"Vete a la mierda, chico blanco flaco!" Rosita spat out and Dwight returned her devilish glared with a cavalier smile. This was a side I hadn't seen from him yet and I narrowed searching eyes at him.

" _Wwww_ ow!" Negan butted in. He dipped back an inch, tugging on me as he did so, and I fought the compulsion to yank my arm from his hand. "I don't know what the hell that meant, but it was pretty fucking hot regardless. Dwight, I don't know what the situation is with your dick and all, but if you don't take some hot Latina ass for yourself, I might have to jump in on that."

"In your fucking dreams, _gilipollas_ ," Rosita snarled at Negan, taking a threatening step toward him. Spencer shot his hand out to keep her from advancing further, pulling her back behind him and giving Negan an apologetic smile.

"Women, right?" Spencer laughed nervously at him and I saw Rick imperceptibly roll his eyes. He took a step forward.

"How about we just get started with-" Rick began, trying to diffuse the fray. Negan held up a finger at him.

"Not yet, Prick. This is still interesting," Negan smirked widely at him and leaned back again to regard Rosita with praiseful eyes. He focused them on me next, his pearly white smile growing as I shot him a spiteful look. I knew today would be hard, that I would have to endure his profane shenanigans and shit-eating grins as always, but it was harder to deal with now that I was in the moment. I pushed the anger down.

"Well, look at you two!" Negan set an appreciative gaze between Rosita and me. He let go of my arm and took a step back to look back and forth between us. "You two could almost be goddamn sisters. Am I seeing double?! _Sheee-it_! I might have taken your sexy ass back," he pointed a stiff finger at Rosita, "if you didn't flash those crazy Latina eyes at me all the damn time. I mean, Everly's got the crazy bitch syndrome, no doubt, but honey," he took a couple steps toward her, "you are patient fucking zero with that shit!"

Negan turned to his left to look at Dwight, dropping Lucille down to tap against his leg. He looked back to Rosita, "But even I ain't that fucking horny to get mixed up in that motherfucking disaster. You and Dwight seem to have hit it off pretty well, though."

He turned back to Dwight, strolling over to stand by him with a sardonic grin. He clapped a hand against his back and a large smirk gleamed on Dwight's face, his eyes locked onto Rosita. My stomach flipped with a sick twist and my palms started to get sweaty. They wouldn't take Rosita back, would they? They might as well move the whole damn town into the Sanctuary if they planned on doing that.

"What say you, Dwighty boy? You want a new wife?" Negan asked him.

"Now, I don't think-" Rick started to reason with him, but Rosita stepped in.

"You're damn fucking straight I'm a crazy bitch," she snapped at him and then looked at me. "Better watch out for that one, though. I taught her all she knows and the two of us together," she let out a bitter laugh, "would be your fucking end."

Every Savior around us began to laugh and Rosita set them up with an awful glare. Dwight showed teeth in response to her threat, the corner of his scarred lip tugging up in an effortless sideways smile. Negan bit his bottom lip in a smile of his own, regarding her like he would an obstinate child.

"Oh, I'm sure, darlin'. I bet you two are a feministic force to be reckoned with!" Negan swung out Lucille in Rosita's direction. She didn't move an inch. "I think I speak on behalf of every man here when I say I'd chop off my left nut to see the both of you _together_. My imagination is just running buck wild trying to picture it."

Rosita scoffed at him, her upper lip rising into a snarl once again. Negan smiled sweetly back at her before turning to his men to give out orders.

"Okay, we've dicked around long enough," Negan yelled at them. "Let's get this shit started and shut it down quickly. We've got a long drive ahead of us and I want plenty of alone time with my wives when I get back."

As the Saviors started to move, Rosita looked over at me and waved a hand, signaling me over. I wanted to go to her, but a sensation of doubt kept my feet tethered to the ground. I glanced behind my shoulder to see Daryl looking at me, a defiant look in his eye as he gave a curt nod of his head before beginning to walk toward Rick. I grabbed his vest as he passed by me, an expression of remorse forming on my features as I looked at Rosita and the others. I was using every ounce of my willpower to not walk over to them with Daryl, but I had to think of their wellbeing. And so did he.

"Remember what you said. Try to comply until we have a solid plan. Don't make the same mistake I did," I whispered up to him and cut a glance over at the four of them standing there with expectant faces. My cheeks grew hot with longing and misery.

He let out a sigh, throwing his arms out in defeat and grudgingly stayed by my side. I hated being this person, holding him back and denying him what he should be free to do. I hated it even more that I was acting on Negan's commands. I was turning out to be a mighty fine subordinate and the anger it dredged up in me was a red hot probe of rage that pierced through my temples. The pain began to pulsate at each side of my head.

Regardless of the circumstances, a rush of satisfaction surged through me at Daryl's insolence. I had been worried when he told me that he said Negan's name, alleging his loyalty to him, and fretted even more after his round of twenty questions in the truck earlier, but I saw now that my concern had been excessive. I gave him an empathetic smile, tugging on his vest in a playful way, and the corner of his lips began to travel up softly.

Suddenly, a heavy arm wrapped itself around me from behind, pulling me back against a hard chest, and Daryl's lips dropped down in a heartbeat. I smelled him, felt the soft, cool leather of his sleeve against the base of my throat and heard the deep tremor of his voice before I even had to look at who it was.

"Don't think I didn't see that. I thought I said no acknowledging anyone or have you forgotten our discussion already?" Negan's bristly cheek was against my temple, but he was talking to Daryl. "It's already strike one after this one's earlier stunt. Do you really wanna go for strike two?"

"No," he whispered after a long moment and brief look at my nervous face.

"Good boy," Negan answered. "Go help my men load up some trucks. You know the drill, dipshit, don't make me spell it out for you."

Daryl gave Negan one last hard look before breaking eye contact and stalking away. Negan watched him go and he lifted his head up slightly, his beard wiry against the side of my forehead. He leaned back a bit to look down at me and I raised my head up to match his gaze. He smiled.

"You know, I haven't gotten a very good tour of this place," he said, his arm still around my chest. "Rick did give me a quick circle around the first time I was here, but I got caught up dealing with other stupid bullshit that I didn't really get the chance to enjoy it. Wanna make it up to me?"

I nodded my head, knowing I couldn't say no and not trusting myself to speak.

"Splendid!" He gleamed as he squeezed his arm around me in thanks, the leather of his jacket squeaking with the strain. He turned me around to face Rick and the others who were still silently standing there and watching our interaction. Rick and Carl held the same stubborn, blue-eyed glare while Rosita quietly fumed at the ground, her chest falling up and down with her angry breathing. Spencer was nowhere to be found.

"If y'all don't mind, Everly here is gonna give me the grand Alexandrian tour. She's gonna show me all around her old home," he looked down at me with a slight smile. "Or at least the parts she remembers. Don't wait up."

He gave them all a wink as he led me past them, his shoulder roughly thumping Rick's as we walked by. They didn't look at me at all even though I risked the chance of looking at them. They choose instead to find an acute interest in the asphalt beneath their feet or something in the distance, resentment forming hard creases on their faces.

A low cloud of shame hovered over me, obstructing my senses. I could tell they were disappointed in me, possibly even angry, and I couldn't blame them. I was sure that I looked like an outright traitor, the way I had prevented Daryl from going over to them and then ignoring them after. If that hadn't been enough to get them second-guessing my loyalty, I was sure following Negan's orders and having him hang off of me was enough to convince them that I was no longer a part of them. I wasn't their family anymore and it broke my already fragmented heart.

Negan kept his arm protectively draped around me as we ventured farther into the neighborhood. I didn't say anything to him, keeping my eyes to the ground in front of me. I was too afraid to look up and see anyone else's shocked face of disapproval. I felt disgusted enough in myself to not have to see it mirrored in anyone else's gaze. I let him lead the way, his body a heavy weight on my shoulders.

"Where did you stay when you lived here?" He asked. We strolled at a leisurely pace like lovers on an early morning walk, a few guarding Saviors trailing behind us, and I screamed internally at what a sight we must be. He waved Lucille in a friendly gesture and greeted a good morning to someone I didn't dare to look up at.

"I stayed in the same house as Rosita, Abraham, and a few others. Abraham being one of the men you killed," I replied evenly. I could feel him fix me with a stare and he sighed.

"I lost people, too, a shit ton of them. Or has that escaped your memory? You speak as if you guys didn't start the whole damn thing," Negan spoke down to me and I rolled my eyes away from him, angry.

"We didn't start anything. You're men cornered four of us, demanded our supplies and then threatened to kill us. We were just defending ourselves," I lied, averting the blame onto him. Truth was that we had planned on taking all of them out. That initial confrontation with his men just happened to start the ball rolling and Hilltop provided the final kick.

"And yet, you guys decided it would be a good fucking idea to come back for more," Negan retorted in a discrediting tone. "You know, I could have looked past the fact that you all blew my mens' asses to chunks. I understand you acted defensively and maybe we could have worked something out, but the utter disregard for my peoples' lives thereafter…"

He stopped walking and pulled me to a stop. He took his arm from around me to grab my shoulder, making me face him. I looked up into his face with steely eyes and he regarded me with a hard expression. He took a threaten step forward, his hand firmly holding me in place as I involuntarily tried to move backward. He leaned down so his eyes were level with mine.

"You're fucking lucky I only killed two of you. Hell, I was planning on only killin' one of ya, but pretty boy Daryl went and fucked that shit up real quick," Negan paused, his eyes dancing back and forth with mine. "Don't stand there and look at me like I'm the bad guy here. Your people, your _family_ , are just as much a gang of killers as we are. You lost the privilege to claim otherwise when you all snuck into that satellite outpost and murdered my men in their fucking _sleep_."

"I didn't do that," I lamely mumbled.

"It doesn't fucking matter who did it, it was your goddamn group. The only difference between us is that I work to make lives better for everyone else in this gaping wound of a world, and sure, I take a whole hell of a lot back seeing as it's my God-given right, but you selfish fucks only look to make life better for yourselves. Fuck anyone else who happens to be victim to it as well!"

"Bullshit! You're a fucking hypocrite!" I yelled at him, my enraged voice resonating down the street. In an instant, his hand formed a crushing grip around my bicep as he began to drag me back down the street at a much faster pace than we had walked before.

"Show me your house," he demanded, his eyes surveying the area furiously. I tried to yank my arm from his grasp as he marched me down the road, but he kept a fast grip, pushing me forward to lead. I almost told him no, and the vivid thought of throwing back my right hand to smack him across the face nearly became a reality before I remembered who he was and where I was at. I guided him to the driveway of my old house instead.

He pushed me up the stairs, stomping across the small porch and flinging open the front door to usher me inside. He slammed it shut behind us and stopped in the foyer to push me against the wall, Lucille puncturing the plaster next to me as he smacked her near my head. I shrunk back, working to catch my breath as I averted my eyes down to his waist, the metallic teeth of his unzipped jacket sharp and gleaming. I was tremoring as he leaned forward, his face slowly inching toward mine.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, speaking to me the way you just did out in the spread eagle open for anyone to hear, but I'm letting you know now that shit will _not_ fly," his voice was soft, but I heard the danger behind it. It covered me in goose bumps. "It was cute at first, but now it's gotten old. _Do not_ attempt to make me look weak in front of these people, _you_ don't control a goddamned thing. You had your fun. Now get…your shit…together…before I do something I know I'm gonna regret."

I tried to swallow, but my tongue was dry and my throat was thick with fear. I nodded once and whispered, "Okay… Okay."

Deliberately, he leaned back to stand erect and wrenched Lucille out of the wall, plaster fling out all over me. I let out a gasp, breathing in deeply to help myself calm down. He didn't move away from me, enjoying the process of me getting my shit together. At last, I swallowed down my pride and stood resolute, reluctantly meeting his scornful eyes. He fleetingly lifted his eyebrows up at me, Lucille safely propped up in her proper place on his shoulder, and reached a hand out to flick a piece of drywall off of my chest. I took a step back away from him toward the front door and began to dusty myself off.

He smirked as I ran my hands over my shirt and through my hair, only turning away when I was done. He walked into the open living room, examining everything around him. I decided to stay where I was at and crossed my arms over my chest to cover myself, and I looked around, too, taking in everything with dilated eyes. I had remembered it perfectly, not an object was out of place. It was bittersweet seeing it again and knowing I wouldn't be able to stay. Out of everything that he had put me through this seemed the most unfair.

Negan disappeared behind a far corner as he walked around, his heels echoing hollowly on the wooden floors as he went from room to room. I thought about bolting out the front door, but knowing his guarding Saviors, especially Arat, waited outside helped me make a better decision. I wouldn't even make it past the first step if I tried to run, and it would be pointless, anyway. No one here could help me. No one…

When he came back into the living room, he looked over it once more, tinkering with almost any little thing he could find. Finally, he spun around to look at me with a sigh, his eyes hooded with reproach. I studied him with a cautious stare, not sure what he would do next after batting a hole into a wall inches from my head. He held his arms out wide, gesturing for me to look around.

"You had a beautiful home," he said with a smile. "It's much more refined than your cot at the Sanctuary, that's for motherfucking sure."

When I stayed silent, he calmly walked over to me, stopping by my side with a purposeful squeak of his boots. He cocked his head as he looked down at me, furrowing his eyebrows as I peered up at him.

"I wanna see the rest of it. More specifically, I wanna see where you used to rest your weary, little head. I'm mighty curious… Why don't you lead the way?" Negan asked me and held out his gloved hand to the staircase.

I thought about refusing, Daryl's words the night I snuck into the infirmary to see him reverberating in my head. _"Just because he didn't try anything with you then don't mean he won't later,"_ he had reasoned with me and I realized all too suddenly that I was completely alone with one of the most dangerous and unpredictable men I had ever met.

His eyebrows furrowed again as I stood there, staring at him. His mouth started to move, forming a word as he tilted his head in askance.

"Wwweeeeeeell?" He drawled out.

Before I could get my synapses firing to even make an attempt to move my feet forward, I heard a series of heavy footsteps climbing up the stairs outside and treading across the porch to the front door. I turned just as Negan did and he let out a sound of exasperation as the door opened.

Rick walked in with Eugene and Carl who was carrying a smiling Judith on his hip. Dwight stepped in behind them with Daryl in tow, separating him from the others. They immediately noticed the hole in the wall, and I cast my eyes away from them as Judith babbled happily at me, showing me a toothy grin and completely oblivious to the world around her. I blinked rapidly to keep the forming tears at bay.

"Uh, excuse us, we don't mean to interlope on this…proceeding," Eugene voice was nervous as he looked from the wall to Negan, "but I thought I could give my welcome to my dear friend, Everly, if that would be permissible with you, Mr. Negan."

Negan let out a long, soft chuckle at Eugene's request, giving him a once over before totally disregarding him and looking over at Rick.

"How in the hell did you get past my guards?" He asked him lightly, a smile warming his tone. "Dwight?"

"I was told there were supplies in here. Brought Daryl along for company when the others followed. Apparently, they're in a top secret location," Dwight smirked at Eugene.

"It was of high priority that the items I have fashioned be in a position of upmost secrecy," Eugene spoke directly to Dwight. "I did not bust my rump for the better half of the month to have an unfortunate event ruin my work. Plus, I thought Mr. Negan would be appropriately pleased with my offerings."

Negan waved a hand at Eugene, clearly uninterested in him or his offerings at the moment. He then pierced Daryl with a look that clearly displayed his displeasure at seeing him with Rick and the others despite the coltish grin that adorned his face. "Do you dumbfucks not understand the meaning of 'don't wait up' or was it completely lost on you? This shit couldn't wait until later?"

"Well, _actually_ , one can typically adduce the idiom 'don't wait up' is to express-" Eugene started emphatically.

"I know what the hell it means, Rain Man. I'm the one who said it!" Negan snapped at him. Eugene shut his mouth in response, looking back and forth between Negan and the hole in the wall. He shuffled nervously on his feet.

"As Dwight said, we have supplies here. Eugene is aware of where they're at, seeing as he's the one who secured them for you, so we tagged along," Rick responded, his eyes darting over to me momentarily. "We also just wanted to check up on you guys. Make sure you were getting a proper look around."

"Well, I was until you assholes barged in," Negan said, sliding his arm over my shoulders again. My face grew hot in embarrassment.

"Carl, why don't you take Judith on into the kitchen and get her a snack," Rick suggested and Carl obliged after a fleeting glare at Negan.

"Oooh! You're shooting daggers with that eye, son!" Negan smiled at him as he left the room.

"Negan," Rick began, his mouth open as he thought of what words to use, "would it be okay if I spoke with Daryl and Everly for a moment?"

Negan regarded him suspiciously, clicking his tongue as he did so. He looked at Daryl and then at me, his eyes lingering on my face. When he looked back to Rick, he threw his hands up in a shrug, "Alright, Prick. Say what you gotta say."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a private discussion," Rick said carefully.

"Well, that sure is asking for a lot," Negan refused with a distrustful smile. "My boy Daryl here's got a shit ton of work to do and Everly was doing just fine showing me around until you guys so rudely inter-fucking-rupted. I wanna be back at home by dinnertime if that's okay with you."

"I understand," Rick nodded, his voice humble, "but it'll only take a minute. I just wanna catch up with them to see that ev-"

"Catch up?" Negan cut him off. "The world ain't your condiment bar, Rick. You don't get to pick and choose when and how you get to talk to them, they aren't yours anymore. Christ, you barely get to choose what you do with your own shit stain of a life right now. Maybe, depending on how the rest of this day goes and if Daryl can do as he promised, I'll let you give them a farewell wave as we drive off, but for now, I don't want you around either of them. You or any other punk ass bitch in this town."

Rick swallowed hard, sniffing as he looked at the ground. His hands were on his hips and he bobbed a foot up and down in nervous anger. Finally, he nodded, making eye contact with Negan and slowly relenting. Eugene remained a statue with his eyes being the only thing about him to move, and Daryl appeared uncomfortable as well with Dwight still hovering at his side. Negan took a step forward.

"Actually, why don't you all make yourselves useful here," he intoned with a smile. "Make sure no other asshole comes in here while Everly and I go upstairs. You," he pointed at Daryl, "can go wait outside and keep your mouth shut and your eyes to the ground. Don't forget that _I_ will be watching you. Or my men will, but really, what's the difference?"

Negan flashed a dazzling smile and put his hand on my waist, indicating for me to follow after him. I gave Rick a wide eyed stare, shaking my head and pleading with him silently to not think less of me. I walked clumsily to the stairs, Negan's fingers wrapped around my hip. He stopped once we reached the bottom step, turning to give the sullen men one last look before going up.

"What's that one idiom I'm thinking of, Mullet?" Negan asked Eugene. "How does it go…? Oh! Is it, if the bed's a rockin', don't come a knockin'? Is that the one I mean?"

He gave them all a wink as he pulled me up the stairs.

* * *

 **Hey! Sorry this was a day late, but life got in the way.** **I have to say that the previous episode was by far my favorite. I loved everything about it!**

 **Many thanks to all my reviewers and a big welcome to any new readers! I'm glad you're here. :)**

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

"Well, shit!" Negan expressed as we stepped into my old room, slamming the door behind us. "I forgot we took all the mattresses out of this place. Now my joke doesn't make any sense."

He turned to look at me with a dramatically disgruntled look and twirled Lucille around on his shoulder with a flick of his wrist. He stopped in the middle of the room with a stomp of his foot and sighed, his eyes roving around to examine every corner. I stayed by the door, unhappy that I was once again in a confined space alone with him.

"Pretty nice," he complimented, his lips turning down slightly as he nodded his head. "Not bad at all. You have some cool shit in here."

He crossed the room and up to my dresser to pluck a book from it and looked at the cover before chucking it to the floor, "Boring."

"Could you not?" I asked, stomping over to pick it up and placing it back where it belonged. He ignored me and continued his own personal tour around my room.

"What in the cocksucking hell?!" He let out an astonished laugh, propping Lucille up against the desk he was standing by. He picked up an object from my desk and started messing with it. "You've got an iPod? And it works!? I haven't seen one of these motherfuckers since… Well, since the new world began."

"That's great," I replied in a snarky tone and walked over to grab it from him. It was one of the few things I had taken with me and managed to keep track of two years ago. I didn't want him touching it. I reached out a hand to grab it from him, but he twisted his arm away with a reprimanding look and an index finger in my face.

"Put it down, seriously," I begged.

"Alright, hold on, now," he chided. "I'm gonna have a listen because I am the guest and you need to be a big girl and share."

"No," I swiped out a hand for it again, but he lifted it out of my reach easily. He smiled.

"How about this, I'll give it back to you after you answer my last three questions. Sound fair?" He raised his eyebrows in inquiry.

"No!" I said again, getting more and more frustrated with him.

He pushed my shoulder, causing my upper body to sway back, "What're you gonna do about it then, tough shit?"

He pushed me again, harder this time, and I stumbled back a step. I smacked his hand away as he went in again for another shove.

"Stop it!" I hissed, my eyes blazing. He pushed me again and again, each thrust of his fingertips more forceful. He smiled teasingly at me as he advanced on me, causing me to back away from him.

When I felt my dresser behind me, I had a brief idea to grab something, anything useful, to defend myself. _My book_ , I felt behind me and wrapped fingers around the thick spine. I held it in two hands, ready to swing it at his head and he stopped, his face a show of amused astonishment. He put the iPod in his jacket pocket and then let his hands hang at his sides as he studied me.

"Really?" He asked. "Is this the way you want today to go? I was fucking with ya' just now. No hard feelings."

My temper was at maximum heat, but I was afraid in spite of the rage and chagrin I felt. This day had been one hell of an emotional roller coaster and I felt myself tearing at the seams. I could barely control myself and was well on my way to getting into some major trouble, but at the moment I didn't care. No one else was around to take the blame but me. And I _really_ wanted an excuse to hit him.

"It doesn't have to go this way if you'll just back off and let me leave," I said, raising the book up a bit. I wasn't exactly sure how this would follow through, but I was willing to find out.

"Jesus Christ," he said, shaking his head with a smile. "You _are_ a fucking crazy bitch. I've done a whole ass load of messed up shit to you and you wanna _fight_ me!" He laughed. "I don't know if I find that incredibly fucking hot or stupid. It's kind of hard to decide between the two. It's almost as if," he took an aggressive step forward and I reared back, ready to strike, "you want me to punish you."

He lunged at me. I swung down as hard as I could, catching him on the shoulder as he ducked to the side. It didn't seem to do any damage at all as he grabbed both my arms, knocking the book from my grasp and shoving me against the wall. He pinned my wrists in both of his hands on either side of my head, one of his knees digging painfully into my thigh.

"Calm down," he placated me sternly as I struggled to get away from him. I attempted to bring a knee up and into his crotch, but he blocked the hit effortlessly and pinned my other leg as well.

"I thought you didn't hurt women," I said insolently.

"I don't if I can help it. I'm just diffusing the situation, baby," he smiled down at me.

"Get your fucking hands off of me!" I sneered.

" _Damn_ ," he smiled and pressed into me, his face hovering a fingerbreadth from mine, "I'd love nothing more than to hate fuck you against this wall right now. I'm sure we'd both enjoy it, but unfortunately for us, there are children downstairs and I'm not so sure that Daryl isn't listening through that door over there."

"You don't get it do you? I'm _not_ interested," I violently struggled against him again, but he held me firmly to the wall. I huffed out an angry snarl in his face. "Is your head really that far up your ass or are you just willfully blind to it?"

"I'm painfully aware of your feelings toward me, make no damn mistake. That doesn't mean I won't stop trying. You have to know by now that I'm not one for throwing in the towel easily. You're still breathing, aren't you?" he said, further amused with me. "But I just don't know what else to say to you to get you to understand that fact. You're compliant one second and reckless the next. At least Daryl's consistent… You're fucking unpredictable, and frankly, that makes me a tiny bit uneasy."

"Good," I mocked him. "I understand perfectly well what's at play. I've already been living through the misery. You will always have the upper hand. That is as plain to see as the brainless arrogance you strut around with every day, but the truth is that I feel sorry for you. You control nearly every part of this ballgame, hardly anything happens without your say-so, but at the end of the day what do you have?"

Negan's smile started to disappear and it looked like he was working to hold it in place, but it was hard to tell. He looked down at me, his attention on high alert as he silently listened to what I had to say.

"You have nothing," I continued. "Everything you have is fake. Nothing truly belongs to you, you just like to pretend it does. And I feel sorry for you, honestly…You are one of the saddest people I've ever met."

He didn't say anything for a moment, his lips holding up their weight and his hands still a tight vise around my wrists. I, on the other hand, felt lighter. The anger was gone, taken over by true sympathy to my own astonishment. In this moment it was easy to see just how entirely devoid of human emotion and integrity Negan really was. He worked so hard to take and take that by the end of it all he was left with absolutely nothing. The more he got, the less he had. I began to understand Sherry's argument for his humanity a bit better. He was a prisoner just like me, I saw that now, and a small portion of him, maybe someone he must've been before, was buried deep inside, pushed down beneath the murky depths of his cruel insanity to mask his insecurities.

 _Do not go soft_ , I warned myself. I couldn't let these confusing and unwarranted emotions cloud my judgment. I wasn't going to be Sherry, that thought alone was frightening.

As the minutes passed, we fought with each other in a silent battle of wills. Who would look away first? Who would be the one to back down? I almost did, growing tired of the situation, when he let me go and took a step back. He put one hand on the wall beside my head, leaning deeply to stay close to me and I rubbed my sore wrists.

"We still need to finish our game of twenty questions," he finally said. His voice was deep and soft. "I've only got three."

I gave him a look that told him to go ahead.

"Why do you think I chose you, out of everyone else, to take back?" He asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"To torture me," I said matter-of-factly. "To torture the rest of us. That's was your intent and that's what you've done, nothing else. I was defiant and you wanted to prove to me, and everyone else, that no matter what we said or did we were powerless."

He chuckled slightly, his breath a soft blanket on my face, and I was attentive to the fact of how close he was to me still; how big he suddenly looked.

"That's part of the reason, yes," he responded. "It's always fun to break in the determined ones. Makes their defeat that much more _delightfully_ satisfying. It's like finally getting some fucking head after weeks of shitting out empty compliments, opening doors, and jerking myself off after every goodnight kiss. The wait can be worth it if you choose the right person."

"Victim," I corrected, the ire building up again.

"Your words," he rolled his eyes airily. "The other reason was that even in the face of fear you stood up for your group. You and Daryl. I had to at least try with the both of you, see if I could make you mine. I need people like you by my side. I need loyalty, sacrifice, _strength_. I saw that in you."

"Am I supposed to feel flattered?" I asked, raising up one eyebrow in contempt.

"Well, I sure as hell hope so. I know my asshole gets jealous of the shit that comes out of my mouth sometimes, but I told you I'm not a liar. I'll twist the truth around as you very damn well know, but when I say I'm for real, I'm for real," he smirked.

"And Abraham? You didn't see those qualities in him?"

"Big Red? Oh, yeah," Negan agreed, "but I knew I could never break him in. He was the one threat that actually had me pissing _my_ pants a little bit. And I had to choose one of you."

He pushed off the wall and I finally had some room to breathe. He kept on a smile and it fit more easily on his lips than it had a few moments earlier. He walked around my room just as he had downstairs and toyed with my various belongings.

I took Negan's distracted silence as an opportunity for myself to gaze around my room as well. I had missed it along with everything else. I looked at the barren spot where my bed once stood and wondered what Negan had done with it. I didn't remembered seeing any new mattresses come through the Sanctuary, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. They could've filtered through while I was locked away in that old utility closet, my cell.

I picked up the book I had used to defend myself and placed it back on my dresser. It was a large volume of short stories from various authors. I had barely gotten started on it when I was taken away by Negan. It was the first book I had the chance to read after the world ended, and opening it up for the first time, smelling the paper and ink, was when I felt like things could be normal again. I had been so naïve then, catching on a bit too late at how dangerous the world would always continue to be. I wouldn't be safe until I was cold, stiff, and six feet underground.

"Following my first question," Negan said as he ended his stroll around my room, stopping to give me his full attention again with an expectant smile adorning his face, "how far away are you from accepting your fate?"

"My fate?" I questioned in response, not sure what he meant. Was it some sort of threat?

"Yes, your fate. The fate I've handed you with my generous, reasonable, bare-balled fucking hands," he splayed them out for me to see just how open and generous they were. "The fate of you owing your undying fealty to me. I've saved your life whether you choose to believe it… You think any other motherfucker would have kept you alive this long? After all you've done? Even in the face of whatever potential you might possess," he looked me up and down slowly, "I don't think most would have had the patience. I do. I have a whole hell of a lot if you haven't taken the time to notice already. How-fucking-ever, you can count this encounter in here as your official strike two. It did get me excited as hell, but it was a tad too damn bold for my taste. You've got one more chance. So, don't strike out and answer the damn question."

I crossed my arms as I lowered my eyebrows. I wanted nothing more than to tell him that he would waste every breath from this moment to his last on trying to get my loyalty and that the most he's ever done with my life is put it in danger, but something stopped me. It was the sudden thought that I wasn't sure if I could outlast him. I didn't know if I was tough enough and, eventually, I saw myself giving in. It all depended on how much he really wanted to wear me out; how badly he needed to. He was much stronger than me, and we were both headstrong, as was Daryl, but once again the query of who would win formed in my mind and the answer was always uncertain.

"Far enough," was all I said. He might wear me down one day that much might be true, but it wasn't happening now.

"Ah," he said, smiling and shaking a finger at me, "I'll get you there soon enough. I can practically see your resolve chipping away already. You're tough, Everly, you are, but you're _emotional_ , and the emotional ones are so much easier to bend and mold…"

He winked and pulled out my iPod to untangle the headphones. He placed an earbud in one ear and turned it on, searching through my library.

"You've got some good fucking tunes on this thing," he said with a forming smile and dancing slightly in the streaming sunlight from the window. "I haven't heard some of this shit since my college days twenty-five years ago."

He suddenly stopped, looking out the window with a shocked expression.

"Shit!" He turned to me with a disbelieving expression. "Has it been that damn long?"

He walked over to me and took my hand. He pulled me to the middle of the room and put a bud in my ear. I heard the upbeat melody of _This Must Be The Place_ as he slid a hand to the small of my back, pressing me closer. He placed the iPod in his pocket again so he could hold my hand in his. He swayed against me, singing down at me while I tried my best to stay still, planting my feet to the ground.

"Come on, dance with me," he looked offended.

"You're a dumbass," I replied and put my free hand to his chest to push him away.

He only held me tighter, grabbing my hand from his chest to put it up to his neck, and started singing more loudly with the song.

" _The less we say about it the better, make it up as we go along, feet on the ground, head in the sky, it's okay I know nothing's wrong…nothing._ "

 _What a joke_ , I thought as he got more into it. Of course he would choose one of the more optimistic songs I had. It was like he was rubbing in my face just how carefree this situation was for him. He certainly had nothing to worry about. As he danced with me, he leaned forward and dipped me back. I let out a squeak of surprise and latched onto his neck for support, pulling myself into him.

"That's more fucking like it," he whispered, his lips against my cheek.

"You're gross," I said, pushing away from him and trying to stand back up, but he kept me bent backwards. The song played animatedly in our ears, the cheerful melody a contradiction to everything that was happening inside this room and out.

"Last question and I'll let you go," he said, raking brown eyes over my face. "Right now, at this very moment, I've got you balanced on a narrow-ass precipice and I don't think you realize how high up you are. The fate I've given you, it's not just in my hands…it's in yours as well. You make as much of the decisions as I do. Every move you make, every thought and every action…is a play-by-play of your story and you have to be the one to write it. So, one year from now, two, maybe ten or on your fucking deathbed when you're remembering all the shit that led up to it, what do you want your story to say?"

I opened my mouth, not knowing how to answer him. I wasn't ready for a question as loaded as this one. My answer would determine what the rest of my time here would be like and how I'd continue my life at the Sanctuary. I looked at his thoughtful face, trying to predict what my best option would be. Should I tell him what he wants to hear or should I tell him what I really think? He could probably see through any lie I might come up with, he pretty much had me pegged down already.

"I want it to say that I did all that I could to fight and survive. Not just right now with you, but through the whole thing. All of it," I answered truthfully. "I'm not going to be one of those people who gave up. I can't be that person. I've lived through so much, lost so much even before…," I stopped, having said enough in that respect. "The point is I have nothing else to do but gain. I know everything is temporary no matter how much I want it to be otherwise. I'll fight and I'll survive whether it's with you or against whatever else is out there. That's all I can do."

Deep lines formed on his face as he studied me and processed my words. A small scowl pushing down on his mouth, but his eyes looked thoughtful. Possibly even a bit praising.

"Great fucking answer," he admitted after a while. "That's what I admire so much about you, Everly. That fucking unyielding preservation and honesty that marks every decision you make and it's not preservation just for you. Hell fucking no, it's for everyone. Even people you don't know, I bet. You're one in a fucking million in this world, sweetheart, and I'm dying to know who it is you're willing to fight and survive for. I want to know who exactly you belong to."

His lips slid up ever slightly, barely changing the pensive expression that still lingered. It was a statement, but while he was telling me what he thought and how he felt, but he was also expecting me to answer. And he waited, staring down at me in thoughtful expectation, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I couldn't admit to what I didn't believe to be wholly true. And what would happen if I didn't?

"I am, uh…I, um," I stuttered as I fought the urge to not say the wrong thing. Daryl had been able to do it and maintain his unshakable, if not haggard, dignity, why couldn't I? "I'm y-…ugh."

Negan's face was an array of entertained expressions, his mouth moving back and forth with mine as I struggled to answer him. His brows lowered in delighted confusion, an intrigued smile curving up one cheek. I sighed heavily.

"I'm…," I closed my eyes and let out a muffled groan behind my lips, "yours, Negan. I'm yours."

"That's right," his teeth gleamed in the bright sun, white and smooth as pearls, "you are. There's only one more thing I need to know, though, and that's your name. I can take a pretty damn good guess at what it is; I just need to hear it come out of your mouth to make it real."

I heaved out another sigh, my fingers digging into the arms of his leather jacket.

"Negan," I bit out.

"There it is," he whispered and then let me go. I fell to the floor with a thump, the breath temporarily knocked out of me. Negan laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair.

"You're a fucking asshole," I choked out, a small ache stretching its fingers along my back.

"Don't forget it," he grinned, reaching into his jacket pocket and bringing out my iPod. He threw it at me and it landed on my stomach with a plop. I grabbed it angrily, slowly relaxing my tense back. He sighed, rolling his shoulders and neck and straightening his clothes.

He looked proud of himself as he held out his gloved hand to me, offering it in truce. I took it in respite, my white flag not full mast yet, and he pulled me to my feet. I let out a groan as I stood up.

"Turn around," he chuckled. I glared at him, rubbing the small of my back to ease the ache and placing my iPod on the dresser next to me.

"Uh, no," I declined.

"I wasn't asking," he said and grabbed my shoulder to spin me around. He put his hands under my shirt, his skin cool against mine. I flinched forward.

"What're you-!?" I started, pulling away from him.

"Just stay where you are and relax," he commanded me and pulled me back, slipping his hands back underneath my shirt. He began to kneaded my back with his thumbs, soothing the soreness and aches.

I stiffened. I did not want him touching me and I did not feel comfortable at all, but this wasn't exactly the worst feeling either. He worked on me for a while, his rough hands gliding up and down my spine. I should feel angry. I should feel disgusted. Instead, I felt an ease work its way through me, alleviating my irritation both emotionally and physically.

 _What are you doing?_ I questioned myself.

I stepped forward intent on getting out of his reach. I didn't want to be in this situation anymore, my comfort level had officially plummeted past zero and was dropping into the negatives. He caught me, his hands capturing the curves of my waist and his fingertips pressing into my belly. My back hit his chest and I felt his beard on my neck as he leaned over my shoulder.

"Chip-chipping away," he whispered in my ear.

He let me go and walked to the door, opening it and stopping in the doorway to look back at me. I looked over at him, terrified and confused, and he was smiling so proudly. His arrogance was a choking cologne clouding the room. I could barely breathe.

"You comin'?" He asked.

 _Run along, little puppet_ , a mocking voice rang in my ears, and I did, following him out of the room and down the stairs by his side.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

"You shits behaving yourselves down here?" Negan asked the men as he came jauntily down the stairs, Everly stepping down slowly behind him.

The five of them sat in the living room in tense silence, Dwight and Judith being the only ones who were relaxed. She played in Carl's lap, smacking his chest with a stuffed toy rabbit and blubbering to herself while Dwight had an arm draped across the back of the couch with a glass of water in hand. Rick had stood up at the sound of their footsteps descending down the stairs and he worriedly examined Everly as she made her way into the room.

"You alright?" He asked her and ignored Negan. She looked at him with large, sheepish eyes but cast them quickly down when Negan looked back at her.

"She's fine, white knight. Keep your dick in your pants," he answered for her. He looked out of the window facing the front yard to see Daryl leaning against the porch, head down and arms crossed. "Well, good fucking job, guys. You all actually listened to me for a damn change. I'm impressed."

"I got a look at the items this guy has been jizzing his brony shorts over since we got here," Dwight flicked a thumb in Eugene's direction. "I'm not sure how impressed you'll be once you see them, but they're interesting."

"What the hell is a brony?" Carl asked with a perplexed look on his face.

Negan rolled his eyes and fixed Eugene with a resigned look, "Alright, Van Halen, it's show and tell time, but first, tell me about what you've got before I waste the energy to go look at it."

"One transistor radio, which should prove its usefulness when broadcasting picks up, and a bicycle-powered generator. It is small, but with enough manpower you could generate enough energy to power small devices. It should engender roughly 100 to 150 watts but that will all be dependent on how fast and how long it is pedaled. It also provides a decent amount of exercise," Eugene finished, a small look of pride illuminating his face.

Negan stared at Eugene for a minute, a small incredulous smile creeping up his face. He arched an eyebrow at him, lifting a hand up skeptically and looked over at Dwight. Dwight smirked and shot a humorous look at Eugene.

"Are you fucking serious? A _bicycle-powered_ generator?" Negan asked Eugene, his eyes settling on him again.

"Uh," Eugene began, confused at his reaction and sweat beading on his forehead, "well, yes sir, I am."

"If I plugged it into my ass would it motorize my dick and make me last longer with my wives?" Negan's smirk grew broader by the second.

Eugene directed his confused look to Rick, deploring him for an appropriate answer and shifting uncomfortably in his seat on the couch. Rick swiveled to face Negan, ready to answer for Eugene, when he let out a boisterous laugh and clutched his stomach.

"Oh, I'm just yanking your rattail, man!" He laughed out. "I know it wouldn't motorize my dick! I'm not a walking fucking dildo! Hell, even if I was, I don't think any of the stupid fucks I've got working for me could pedal fast enough to even get me hard. My dick is that fucking huge."

Rick let out a silent sigh and focused on Eugene who had gone mute and beet red. He fiddle with the bottom of his plaid shirt nervously as Negan finished laughing.

"Come on, man, lighten up. That shit sounds fucking awesome! Show it to me!" Negan obliged him and swung out a hand in a gesture for him to stand up.

Eugene awkwardly stood up and looked back and forth between him and Rick. Rick nodded his head and Eugene stepped forward, an exulted expression forming on his features. He began giving detailed descriptions of each item as he walked to Negan, animatedly going over how he was able to obtain and build each one.

"Just show me the goddamned things," Negan said.

Eugene nodded, the smile dropping from his face, and he walked past Negan toward the garage. Negan followed, rolling his eyes with a sigh and patting Eugene's shoulder apologetically, expressing that he really had no interest in a bicycle-powered generator but that it sounded fucking rad nonetheless. Their echoing voices disappeared as they exited the house through the kitchen.

Rick watched Everly as she leaned against the banisters by the stairs. She had a faraway look on her face, the middle of her brows creased and her eyes worried. He took a step forward intent on asking her again if she was okay now that Negan wasn't here to stop him, but Dwight cleared his throat when he saw what he was planning.

"Negan's still here in case you forgot about that," Dwight reminded him, pointing at himself. He gulped down the rest of his water and placed the glass on the end table next to him.

Rick stopped the snarl that began to form on his face and put his head down instead, slipping his hands in his pockets and keeping his feet stationary. He glanced sideways at her and was hoping she would look up at him if just for the tiniest of moments so that he could communicate with her in some small way, but she kept her eyes on the back of the loveseat in front of her, zoned out.

"So," Carl said breaking the silence, "how'd you get the scar?"

"What, you gonna share your story if I share mine, kid?" Dwight asked.

"Maybe," Carl shrugged apathetically and bounced Judith on his knee.

"I don't fucking think so," Dwight rolled his eyes away from him and shook his head. He wasn't about to tell any of these people how he came to be a less idolized Two-Face by the hands of Negan. The memory was embarrassingly painful enough without having to repeat it out loud. Besides, he didn't owe any of these people a story about his life. They didn't mean shit to him.

"Well, are we just going to sit here in silence then? If so, that shit sounds really fucking boring," Carl agonized, twisting Judith back and forth gently as she cackled.

"Carl," Rick reprimanded him and gave him a piercing look. Dwight smiled.

Carl returned Rick's glare with a glower of his own that proclaimed he had done nothing wrong and he shrugged his shoulders again with a tacked on roll of his one eye, "I was just saying."

"Well, don't," Rick's tone proved he was on edge. "You're supposed to be a role model for her, not teaching her how to how to curse."

"She can't even talk yet," Carl argued.

"Yeah and 'fuck' will be her first word if you keep it up!" Rick exasperated, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Well, now who's the one saying the curse words?" Dwight jumped in. He presented Rick with a critical smile. "If you're gonna give the boy shit at least don't be a hypocrite about it."

"Like you aren't one yourself," Everly's voice spoke and they all looked at her.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Dwight asked her.

"You know what I mean," she took a couple steps forward to stop behind the loveseat that he and Carl sat across from. "You give me shit constantly for standing up for myself when I know you're dying to do the same. I see the way you look at him when you think no one is watching you. You don't hide it as well-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there before you make an ass out of yourself," Dwight clutched the crossbow that lay across his lap, his body tensing up at her words.

"Me make an ass out myself? Once again, you're one to talk. Honestly, what the hell is your problem?" She kept on going. She wasn't afraid of him.

" _My_ problem?" He gave her a quizzical look. " _I_ don't have a fucking problem, but it sure as hell seems like you do. And from the bitchy ass look on your face I can tell I'm gonna hear all about it against my will."

"Fuck you, Dwight," Everly snapped at him. "You have no right to talk about anything being taken against your will. Last time I heard, you gave up whatever rights you had when you handed yourself over to Negan and let him regularly stick his dick in your wife. Sorry, Carl," she gave Carl a brief apologetic look before fixing an angry gaze back on Dwight. "Daryl, I and everyone else in this town weren't given much of a choice when the whole lot of you came in here and force fed us this bullshit saviors-of-the-new-world crap. You guys aren't saviors of shit! You're terrorists and you're cowards."

"Okay, Everly, just relax. You've made your point," Rick chimed in as he took a step toward her and raised a placating hand.

Dwight's eyes were murderous as he regarded her and he held the crossbow tightly in his hands. The moment was intervened by the sound of Negan and Eugene's voices as they came back through the kitchen. Everly broke eye contact with Dwight and she hastily took a few steps back to lean against the banister again. Dwight settled his features and loosened his grip on the handle of the crossbow as Negan and Eugene strolled back in to the room.

"I will admit that your ingenuity has me stunned and I could use your skills back at the Sanctuary. Think of it as a step up from the bullshit child's play you've been horsing around with here," Negan finished.

"Uh, well," Eugene stammered and avoided eye contact with him, "I mean… That is to say…"

"I think Eugene would be more productive in a setting that he's familiar and comfortable with," Rick butted in. "Just let us know what he can do for you and we'll get the supplies to get things moving along."

"Oh, excuse the fuck out of me, Rick," Negan responded, a heated glimmer flickering in his eyes. "The Sanctuary is plenty fucking comfortable, thank you very the fuck much. And I sure as hell can bet you he'll be producing top notch quality shit with all the supplies you manage to scrape up since I'll be storing it with all the other shit you've already given me… Jesus, you can't hold everyone's fucking hands all the damn time. You've got your fist rammed so far up everyone's tightly clenched assholes that they look at you half the time before they even process what's being said to them," Negan pointed to a very rigid Eugene. "He's the fucking epitome of a hollow man. Do you think for him, too? Let the man speak for his-goddamned-self and take a fucking breather for once in your life. Eugene?"

Eugene whipped his eyes back and forth between the two of them, his mouth opening and closing and his voice like a squeak toy as he worked on what to say.

"Jesus Christ, where's the fucking restart button?" Negan threw a hand up and sighed. "Sheesh, no damn wonder you fucking talk like a robot. Your sheltered ass isn't used to human communication with Rick speaking for you all the motherfucking time, is it?"

Eugene closed his mouth and looked down, his face and neck blooming red blotches. The room was silent and Negan grew impatient waiting for an answer as he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I would be most satisfactory here," Eugene quickly answered with a nervous tremor in his voice. "My father always told me that when pigs get fat, hogs get slaughtered and I wouldn't want to get too big for my britches. Stayin' here will keep me humble and unobtrusive."

"Now was that so fucking hard?" Negan asked him seriously. He looked Eugene over, contemplating if he should heed their suggestions or not. "Okay, I suppose I can let you stay here. I mean, you are still working for me either way, and you've done an alright job so far. Next time, though, really work the creative gears in your head and build me something that's worth a damn. Alright, boy scout?"

Negan gave Eugene a hearty smack on his shoulder, his fingertips digging into him as he shook him. Eugene nodded his head timidly and vowed to do so next time. Negan shoved him away and Eugene stumbled to the middle of the living room, walking apprehensively past Rick to join Carl and Judith on the couch. Dwight stood up as he sat down and made his way next to Negan, the crossbow firm in both of his hands.

"Hey, kid," Negan settled his sights on Carl. "Why don't you be a sport and go fetch me a nice, cold glass of water. I'd ask for some lunch, too, but," he gestured to Rick who stood very rigidly with an irritated look on his face, "I have a feeling I've overstayed my welcome."

"Certainly," Carl replied sarcastically and handed Judith over to Eugene. He'd do almost anything to get him out of there. Negan smirked at the boy as he brushed past, letting out a low whistle at his open insolence.

"Well, at least someone knows how to treat a guest around here. Even if the hospitality is lacking a bit," Negan smiled at Rick, giving him a playful wink. "Dwight, go round up our friend from outside and bring him on in. Rick wants to spend some quality time with him and my new girl."

Negan glanced back at Everly to give her a sideways smile, a salacious glimmer in his eye. She didn't smile back. Dwight stepped up to the front door, opening it to beckon Daryl inside as Carl came back in and handed a glass to Negan, his stare as cold as the ice water it contained.

"I really hope you didn't spit in this, kid," Negan said as he lifted the glass to his lips. "Although, it wouldn't surprise me one damn bit if ya did. You've probably got the biggest set of balls in this room if not the whole damn town. Not including mine, of course."

Negan then chugged the whole glass, a small droplet running down the side of his mouth and into his beard. He brought the glass down with a satisfied smile and wiped the corners of his mouth, handing it back to Carl. His eyes wandered over to Daryl who stood by Dwight at the front of the room before resting on Rick.

"Alright, _Rrrr_ ick! I'll give you five minutes. Five minutes to pour your little bitch hearts out to one another and that's all you get. I'm sure you all will behave yourselves," Negan took a few slow steps forward to stop right in front him, getting into his personal space. He whispered, "Now you can't say that I don't treat my people well."

Rick maintained eye contact with him, trying hard not to show the pure hatred he was feeling for the man in front of him. He nodded his head imperceptibly and looked over to Daryl, taking a step back from the intruding presence Negan always seemed to have.

"Ya mind if the three of us speak alone in the office back there?" Rick asked Negan and pointed to a small room off the living room behind his shoulder.

"Sure thing, Rick," Negan lifted his eyebrows in a carefree expression. "Just don't choke on that thank you when you're done. I know it's hard to spit out, but you can do it just like you did the first time."

Negan smiled again and Rick remembered when he had thanked him and his smartass comment after it. Rick jerked his head at Daryl and Everly and turned to walk inside the office, not speaking another word to anyone. When they had all made it in, he slid the pocket doors shut and locked them inside.

* * *

Once the doors were shut and I saw Rick lock the latch, I strode up to him and threw my arms around his neck.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered to him, unable to say anything else at the moment. It was horrible watching how Negan treated everyone here, but seeing his constant degradation of Rick was almost unbearable. He patted my back, returning my hug with a tight squeeze of his arms.

"It's okay," he replied. "Ain't nothing I can't get over."

I pulled away and took a step back, giving him a small smile that he reciprocated. He glanced over at Daryl and stepped up to him to grab his extended hand, pulling him into a tight hug as well. They clapped each other on the back before separating and turning to face me. Rick looked us over once more like he was checking us for any damage he hadn't noticed before and sighed in relief when he found nothing wrong.

"I know it's a lot to ask," he started, taking his time with his words, "but I have to know…need to know…how you guys fairing in there. He treats you both…okay?"

Daryl and I exchanged a guarded look. We could either admit what had been done to us and tell him how much a maniac Negan really was, or we could lie to placate his conscious. I didn't think he'd believe any lie we might manage to come up with, especially not after this visit, no matter how small.

"We're…" Daryl began, struggling between a lie and the truth.

"Surviving," I decided for him. "We're still in one piece, at least. It's no vacation, but we've made it this far still whole and breathing."

Rick nodded. He looked like he expected as much, but he seemed disappointed nonetheless. He sighed again and brought one hand to his hip as he seemed to think about something.

"Have you guys learned anything? Anything useful?" He asked in a low voice and I got the hint.

"All we know is that there are a shit ton of them and they're organized, ready," I replied in a soft tone, glancing at the closed doors warily as my heartbeat began to speed up. I was afraid Negan would burst through them at any moment. "We attacked them with blind confidence, Rick, you already know that. We really didn't know what we were getting ourselves into when we made that pact with Gregory. We thought they were a small army like us, but they're anything but."

"Michonne saw as much when she scouted a week or so ago. I just wanted to be sure, hear from someone who's seen it up close," Rick admitted angrily.

"It's true. Their numbers are in the hundreds and more're comin' each day," Daryl confided. "They're stocked up and experienced. They've got their fingers dipped in every community from here to bumfuck Timbuktu and there ain't no shortage to their resources neither."

"But we can still fight, though. We have to try. I mean, all the stories you guys told me about before I met you, what you all went through and what _we've_ been through together this past year… We can triumph," I desperately wanted to believe that was true, but the look Rick gave me made my stomach sink.

"I'm not so sure about that anymore, Everly. You said yourself they're strong in numbers and resources. We just don't have that luxury anymore," he said, throwing a hand out and then running it through his curly hair.

"Are you kidding me?" I exasperated and Rick put a finger up, quietly shushing me. I continued a bit more cautiously. "What about the prison? The Governor and all his people? As crazy as you guys made him out to be, you beat him. You guys _won_. Are you saying we can't do that now?"

"Everly, you weren't there at the prison. It was a horror show…," Rick stopped, his eyes cast to the floor. He started to speak again, but stopped with another sigh and shook his head. He opened his mouth, closing his eyes for a brief second before they met mine. "Phillip, the Governor, he was a lunatic built up on vengeance and it got good people killed. Good people I cared about and there isn't a minute that goes by that I don't feel some sort of guilt for every life we lost that day… But while the Governor was calculating, he was stupid. He acted on emotion with nothing in mind but our death. This," Rick gestured to the closed doors and what waited behind them, "is different. Negan has a set goal and it isn't our heads in the grinder. He's even said as much. It's clear now he doesn't just kill out of impulse. He does it as a lesson or if there's a threat and I can say that I've learned a lot from him, however much it pains me to admit it. We need to take a different path now, different from what we did before. I don't want to risk losing anyone else. We've come too far, built up too much. We're secure even if we're on our hands and knees licking shit from his boots. We've got to stay in a straight line for as long as we can."

"Rick…," I tried to reason with him, "We have to fight. We can't just…go along with this anymore. This is no way to live."

I looked over at Daryl and pleaded with him silently to agree with me. He crossed his arms and gazed back at Rick with a look of uncertainty.

"She's right. I mean, we've been in that shithole for nearly two months now and we ain't got jack to show for it except for some PTSD and new scars."

"That's not true. You've learned a hell of a lot about that place and that _is_ going to count for something. Battle scars included…," he reasoned with us and a worried look settled on his features again. "We will fight back…someday. Hopefully sooner than we all think but for now, we don't have many options in what we can do, he's just too powerful. We don't have the manpower, and for the time being, I don't think we have much to worry about in terms of survival if we just keep our heads down."

"Rick," I begged.

"Everly, just _pretend_. I don't want you dead before you're supposed to be," he reached out a hand and gripped my shoulder, bringing me closer to him. He looked to Daryl and he got the hint to step up to us. Rick lowered his voice even further, "There's a plan at play. We've been corresponding with Hilltop. Maggie's been keeping us in the loop and planning with Jesus, but we're still in the early stages of things. In the meantime, I need the both of you to learn as much as you can and blend in. I know it'll be hard, but you're both capable…and please don't get yourselves hurt anymore or, God forbid, killed. I need you guys standing by my side for the fight. We're not giving up."

"Will Hilltop be enough for us to start anything?" Daryl asked.

"I don't know. That's why we're taking this slow. Jesus spoke of some other communities that might be able to help, but he hasn't gone into specifics yet," Rick replied. "And of course, Negan doesn't know Maggie is there. He thinks she's dead, and as far as he knows, our knowledge of Hilltop is nonexistent. Our next advantage is that you guys are in on the inside. You've already learned a lot and you can learn more. I want you to gather as much intel as you can while staying safe."

"How are we supposed to provide any information to you? We're prisoners!" I was getting shrill again and I took a moment to calm myself. I whispered harshly, "It's not like we can just visit whenever we want or send a fucking letter!"

"We don't have to be nomore. We ain't locked up at the Sanctuary still, we're here," Daryl muttered. "And Negan's lettin' us talk alone. That tells me we're on to being somethin' more than just captives."

I stopped. Daryl had a point. While most of the day we had been forced to keep our heads down and not speak to anyone, Negan was actually giving us some fleeting moments of freedom which was much more than I expected out of the day. Not to mention my talk with him earlier and the intentions he had for us. Soldiers. I shuddered.

"Okay," I conceded, "but writing down secret notes didn't exactly work out so swimmingly for us before."

"It doesn't have to be notes. It can be as simple as a look to confirm an offhanded comment or a brief, private discussion just like this. We'll keep it short and quick and try not to draw attention to ourselves. Just trust me," Rick squeezed my shoulder again.

I looked back and forth between the two of them, not sure if this was the best plan. I was growing anxious. I didn't want a repeat of what happened the first time we plotted something, but I trusted Rick with my life. And if we were going to fight and win we had to start somewhere.

"Okay, just… Let's not make the same mistakes as last time," I looked at Daryl. "Nothing can be traced back to us and we can't be overheard."

"Sounds like a damn plan to me," Daryl agreed.

Suddenly, four loud knocks rattled the door and I jumped back with a start, a hand to my chest to calm my fluttering heart. Rick and Daryl straightened up quickly, taking a few steps back and tensing up for a fight.

"You're time's about up in there. Got about…thirty seconds!" Dwight's voice boomed through from the other side of the doors.

"We got a plan?" Rick asked us in a whisper.

"Yeah," I shortly replied and nodded despite the warning signs firing red in my mind.

Rick clapped a hand on Daryl's shoulder and Daryl returned the sentiment, a significant smile on his face.

"We'll do what we can, Rick," he said. "For you, for us, and for everyone. We'll be there and we're gonna kick some fucking Savior ass."

* * *

 **Hi, everyone. Thank you to my guest reviewer; I die a bit inside, too, but hopefully this chapter assuaged that. :)**

 **I want to let you guys know that updates will be slowing down. Possibly after I post Ch. 22. I really wanted to be ahead of whatever chapter I posted each week, but it all caught up with me and now I'm behind. I haven't written anything past Ch. 22 yet, but I'm going to keep working on it. So, MAYBE I can continue with weekly updates. If not, it will be bi-weekly, if not sooner; say between a week and two weeks per update.**

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

"So, this is it, then. We're Saviors now," I mumbled to Daryl as we walked back to the front gate. Negan had ushered us out of the house as soon as we came out of the office. We managed to get out a quick goodbye to Rick, Eugene, and Judith before we were shoved out of the front door, but Carl had already left. It disappointed me that I didn't get the chance to speak to him, even if it was just a goodbye, but I understood his lack of enthusiasm to stick around any longer. I wouldn't want to either.

"Mmph," Daryl replied, surveying the space and Saviors around us. He muttered, "We're Saviors for our people, not for them. We can bear the same name, but it don't have to have the same meaning."

"How philosophical of you," I gave him a teasing sideways smile.

"What can I say? When you're shoved face first into a pile of shit, ya think of the best way to clean yourself off without getting' it into your mouth. Makes you think."

"You never did before?" I teased. He punched my arm playfully. "Ow!"

"I held back on that one," he smiled.

"Yeah, right," I huffed, rubbing my arm and punching him back.

"Watch it now," he held up a defensive hand, his lips still turned up. I bucked him with the side of my hip as I smiled back up at him, enjoying this small carefree moment we were sharing.

"It's gonna be serious," he said suddenly pensive again. "I believe in Rick. He says he's got a plan, I believe him. I'm gonna do what I can to help move it along. I think if I can go out on more supplies runs that'd be a good start. I can get a feel of who else is out there, how _many_ are out there, how they feel about Negan, and if we can use them as allies."

"That's a very good plan," I agreed.

"You got one?" He gave me a sideways look, his blues eyes observant and piercing.

"I don't know. Maybe he'll let me be a scout…" I said and looked away. Another idea had flashed in my head that brought heat to my neck and cheeks. One I didn't like very much.

"Don't do it," he requested and I swiftly met his gaze again.

"I-," I began, but stopped when no reply came to mind. Had my thoughts been that clear on my face?

"You got plenty of options in that place. _That_ don't have to be one of 'em," he got closer to me as he spoke, leaning down so that he was next to my ear.

"I know. I know that," I was starting to get short with him. I was plenty aware of what my options were and how little the ones I had offered. Sleeping with the enemy was an abhorrent notion and it wasn't one I didn't think I could perform very well on, but it potentially could be a good way to get the lowdown of the ins and outs of the Saviors and their leader. It could possibly even provide the chance to take Negan out.

Being in the midst of an apocalypse was a very straining evaluation of what a human being is capable of. It's an exhibit of the pure instinct every person in this world is programmed with from birth, and along with that comes the calculated manipulation and longevity one adopts to ensure their survival. I'd been lucky enough that running away and the sheer power of avoidance was enough of a means to aid my continuation in this world, especially when I was on my own. My lack of self-defense skills left a bit to be desired, but I also knew I would do what I had to- even if that meant killing someone. Granted, I wasn't exactly a seasoned fighter, but Daryl and the others had been more than willing to show me what they knew. They made sure that if anything happened, and we all knew something would eventually, I would know how to physically protect myself.

"What were you talking to him about?" Daryl asked vaguely, his eyes scanning the road ahead. We had slowed down to an easy stroll and a wave of tired Saviors rushed past us, eager to get back on the road to home.

"What?" I asked, confused.

" _Him_ ," Daryl emphasized and nodded his head, indicating to someone ahead of us.

I looked forward again and caught sight of Negan, smiling and talking with a couple of Saviors as everyone else readied the trucks around them.

"What do you mean? When?" I questioned further. I still wasn't sure what instance he was referring to.

"By the truck, before we left. I caught the tail end of it, when he leant in," Daryl voice sounded strained and I could tell he was trying his hardest not to look at me.

I knew exactly what he was talking about then, but any words I could say to assuage this awkward situation were eluding me. My mouth hung open, the taste of a lie dipped on the tip of my tongue. I could tell him that it had meant nothing; that it was another one of Negan's failed attempts at tasteless banter, but at the thought of his earlier words, it was evident that something had already happened between us.

"Everly," Daryl pressed.

"It was nothing."

"But something happened," Daryl spat out and rubbed his mouth, still refusing to meet my gaze. "What the fuck was it?"

"It was just a kiss," I mumbled and he whipped glaring eyes down at me. Now it was my turn to avoid his look. He started to walk faster, stomping away from me angrily. I was caught off guard, not expecting this reaction out of him, but I rushed after him anyway.

"Stop," I said as I grabbed the crook of his arm. He yanked it away and turned around to face me.

"Ya know, ya don't have to pretend with me. I can handle my own, so if ya got somethin' secret going on with that piece of shit, just tell me now."

I looked around us. A few distant Saviors had stopped to give us curious looks, but we mostly seemed to be undiscovered. Negan was still by the gate, giving out orders and telling everyone to wrap it up. We'd be noticed soon.

" _Nothing_ is going on," I firmly replied. "He kissed me and I refused him. That's all."

"He kissed you, huh?" Daryl said still angry, but his eyes softened as he regarded me. I nodded my head. He turned to look over his shoulder at Negan. He was watching us now, holding out his hands that asked us what we were doing.

"Yeah," I answered with a sigh, relieved that it was out in the open.

"And you refused?" Daryl clarified as he made his way beside me again. He was still looking at Negan.

"Yes…," I confirmed, unsure of what he was doing.

He didn't say anything, just stood there staring across the hot pavement with a tense, daring look on his face. I was about to put a hand on his arm and suggest that we start walking again when he grabbed me, his arm a stronghold around my waist. He swiftly pulled me to him, his face coming down at the same time to put his lips on mine.

My eyes sprung open, initially startled and scared of the consequences that could follow this, but the worry subsided quickly as his body sunk against mine and my hands instinctively traveled up to cup his face. He held me close, the tenderness of his lips and the smoothness of his tongue an impatient torrent as his emotions poured out of him and into me.

He broke the kiss as abruptly as he started it, peering down at me with heated blue eyes. He brought a thumb up to wipe at the corner of my mouth and he smiled briefly before becoming stoic again.

"I just had to do it before I lost the chance," he said, and then he let me go and walked away.

* * *

I stood there watching his retreating back, dumbstruck. My lips tingled, slightly sore where his passion had left him a bit too forceful. I liked the feeling, and I brushed my bottom lip with my fingertips. Negan was watching Daryl as he made his way forward but didn't move to intercept him as he walked by. He only stared, a look on his face that I figured was similar to mine.

I began to make my way forward, too; unsure of what to make of what just happened or how to react to it. I felt scared. I felt giddy. Mainly, I felt unprepared. It became apparent how Daryl might feel about me the night I snuck into the infirmary to see him, but I wasn't quite ready for the reality of it. What did this mean for… _us_? I wasn't sure, and I was too afraid to delve into it any further at the moment.

I tried my best to neutralize my features as I reached the gate, avoiding Negan completely as I passed through them. I wanted so bad to turn and wave to everyone, see their faces one last time before I was taken away again, but I resisted the impulse and kept on walking to the burgundy truck. Negan's reaction to Daryl kissing me had been mute so far and there was no telling what exactly was going through his mind at the moment. I didn't want to do anything to fan what flames may be burning there.

Daryl leaned against the side of the truck, one foot propped up behind him and his arms crossed. He watched me guardedly, searching my features as I got closer but I kept them smooth. Past him, Freddy was hunched over by the back tire, working diligently to secure a tarp over the back of the truck.

"Motherfucker," he cursed, tugging at it. "This shit never stays on!"

"What the fuck was that all about?" Theodore asked Daryl as he came up to stand in front of him.

"The fuck was what about?" Daryl replied calmly.

"Don't play dumb, asshole. You doing this shit because you think it's cute?" Theodore took a step toward him confrontationally.

"Now, Theo, let's settle down," Negan spoke from behind me. He rested a heavy hand on my left shoulder. "Let's just all get in the truck and…settle down."

Negan sounded calm, his hand strong but gentle on my shoulder. It didn't fool me. I felt the tension between the three of them stifling the air. It was like a boa constrictor wrapping itself around my chest a hundred times.

Theodore relaxed his shoulders and Daryl pushed off of the truck, unfolding his arms. He opened the back door and looked at me, waiting. I went to take a step forward when Negan's fingers tightened and I stopped to look up at him. He was smiling at Daryl, his teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun. They stared at one another for a second, then two, then three. Finally, Negan dropped his hand from my shoulder and gestured for me to go ahead.

I walked forward slowly, sensing something was about to happen but nothing did. I climbed into the truck and sat down on the seat by the door. Daryl was just behind me and he urged me to scoot over with his hand, swinging up into the truck after me and slamming the door. I looked at him, incredulous at his behavior but intensely satisfied by it. It didn't stop the dread from sinking in my belly, though.

Freddy must've gotten the tarp secured because he joined the group just as Negan started laughing, his eyes on the two of us inside the truck. From the corner of my eye, I saw a single walker stumbling out of the bushes, one of its hands raised and its teeth gnashing. The three men turned to look at it, some other Saviors nearby lifting their guns to aim at its head, but Negan raised his hand, bringing Lucille down and getting nearer to the walker.

He set his feet apart, giving Lucille a series of quick, short swings as he whistled to it. It turned in his direction, snarling and staggering over to him, and when it was close enough, Negan swung the bat he named after his late wife upwards, catching the animated corpse under the jaw and sending its head to fly back through the air. Its rotten body fell to the ground, permanently dead.

* * *

No one spoke on the way home, the persiflage from this morning absent and brooding silence taking its place. Daryl had taken my hand as soon as we started off, lacing his fingers through mine, and I kept our small embrace hidden against our thighs, not wanting to be discovered and not want to let go of his hand either. It eased my stress and I enjoyed the feel of his skin on mine. It wasn't until we were halfway back that the walkie crackled to life, a desperate voice speaking from the other end.

"Uuuh, Negan?" A Savior said. Negan sighed irritably and reached for the walkie.

"What?" He barked into it.

"This is convoy one. We've run into a bit of a problem up here," the Savior responded.

"What sort of problem?" Negan looked over at Freddy and the truck began to slow down.

"There's a small horde of dead assholes on the road about a quarter of a mile down from where we are. It's gonna be a while before we can pass through," the Savior informed us.

Negan sat for a moment looking out the passenger window, tapping the walkie on his knee and drumming his fingers on the side of Freddy's seat. Then he was gripping it hard, his fingertips digging into the cushion. He lifted the walkie back to his mouth.

"Patrol outpost, what the ever loving fuck is going on over there?"

Static issued from the walkie as someone from the other end began to talk before cutting out. I was beginning to think they might have been overrun before the walkie picked up again, the signal clear.

"This is patrol outpost. We're trying to get a handle on the situation," a frantic voice replied. The snarls of a large group of walkers were apparent in the background.

"What the fuck is going on over there?" Freddy asked. Up ahead, we saw the beginning of the caravan stopped and we came to a halt behind them. The small group of walkers we'd been warned about wandering father down the road.

"What the fuck is going on over there?" Negan repeated Freddy. "Where the buttfucking hell is the ring leader in charge of you dipshits? Why am I not speaking to him? He either be fixing that shitshow over there or fucking dead."

"He never showed," the same voice replied, an angry snarl following his answers and then a loud whacking sound. "We waited half an hour for him this morning before deploying. I've been active chief for the day, but these assholes all came out of nowhere. No one was out scouting to warn us."

"Who the fuck am I speaking with?" Negan asked.

"Trevor," the Savior answered.

"Alright, Trevor, this is what I want you to do. Get whatever dumb fucks you've got helping you out over there and lead the horde south. I don't care what you've got to do. You could cut the arms and legs off of one of you and dangle the parts off the back of the truck for all I give a shit. Just go as far as you can and lose them. Be sure to avoid any settlements we're in contact with."

"Right, okay," Trevor sounded a bit out of breath now. I wondered if he even heard everything.

"And Trevor," Negan added.

"Yes, sir?"

"If that horde shows up at my front door, I better find you among them," Negan finished and threw the walkie up on the dashboard.

"Holy shit," Theodore spoke up, trying to sympathize with Negan.

I rolled my eyes, but I did feel nervous. I was starting to imagine what Daryl and I would do if a giant horde of walkers ended up at the Sanctuary. We had already dealt with one and the memories were traumatizing enough to set me on edge. I did not want to add another experience to vault of horrible occurrences in my mind. It was bad enough remembering them.

"You know who didn't show up?" Freddy asked Negan as we all watched the walkers staggering around on the road below us. It might be hours yet before they'd wander off.

"I know exactly who it is, and oh, _boy_ , do I have a feeling I know where that piece of shit went to," he said and slowly turned to look at Daryl and me over his shoulder, a smile gracing his lips. "This day just got a whole lot more interesting."

I gripped Daryl's hand harder.

"You know what? Fuck this shit," Freddy announced and opened his door. "I'm not waiting for this bullshit. There's only maybe thirty down there. We can take those fuckers."

"Yes, and draw more attention to ourselves with gunshots," Theodore sarcastically replied.

"Not with guns, numb nuts. Knives, an axe. Kick it and split it, you know," Freddy spoke to him like he was stupid.

Theodore looked like he didn't enjoy the idea too much, but Negan was already getting out of the truck with Lucille in hand.

"I think the boss man agrees," Freddy gave Theodore a wink and then gave Daryl and me a brief look before hopping out of the truck himself.

I glanced at Daryl and raised my eyebrows. He nodded his head and gave one last squeeze to my hand before letting it go. He opened his door and slid out with me following behind.

"Alright, people, I need some volunteers," Negan called out as the rest of the Saviors gathered in the road; looking down at the herd, I could tell they were starting to notice us and a few began the long, shuffling trek in our direction. "We've got a group of assholes preventing us from getting home after a hard day's work. Now, I don't know about you all, but I ready for a nice, cold beer and I don't think sittin' around here with our thumbs up our asses is gonna do us any good. So! Like I said…I need some volunteers to go down there with me and bash in a few rotten clown heads."

A resounding 'hear, hear' went around the group and people started pulling out weapons from their vehicles: bats, crow bars, hatchets, lug wrenches. It was more than I thought they carried. I stood there, unsure if I should get back in the truck or watch, when a pick axe was shoved into my arms. I looked up to see Negan smiling down at me.

"Ready to get your hands dirty, darlin'?"

 _As ready as I'll ever be_ , I breathed in deeply and nodded. I didn't like getting close to _them_. Being out on my own those few months after I left Georgia, it was petrifying; all alone, barely any food or water, no sleep. I had to be constantly vigilant every second of the day and it wore on me. It took me weeks to get used to being surrounded by other people after I met up with Rick's group; not look over my shoulder every second or tense up at every little noise. Alexandria was a shock. I was emaciated, tired, scared, used to fighting for my life but ready to die when we were led right through her gates and discovered everything she held secret behind them. It had been a tremendous relief, but it also left me nervous. It was hard seeing people living life like before; like nothing had happened.

"Alright," Negan addressed everyone, "those who are too chicken shit to help out, ya'll can sit here and babysit. Make sure no more of them come out and surround the trucks. If you've got a weapon, find a partner, stick with them, fight back-to-back and keep moving. That way you won't get any surprise attacks. And don't try to be a billy badass out there and take on too many. I won't help you out if you do."

The Saviors started off down the road and I turned to my left to speak to Daryl.

"Let's stay as far back as possible," I began but noticed he had nothing in his hands.

He held them up annoyed and made a grab for the pick axe in mine when Negan stepped up beside us.

"It's not nice to take things from others, Daryl. Keep your filthy hands to yourself."

Those were loaded words and it was clear Negan was speaking about more than just the pick axe.

"She ain't goin' out there by herself," Daryl argued and took a step closer to me.

"And she isn't," Negan smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Ready, partner?"

The question was aimed at me but the two men continued to stare each other down; one smiling and the other not.

"Yes, let's go," I interjected and put a hand on Negan's chest, ready to get this over with.

Daryl was furious, that much was evident, but I shook my head and put my head down as I faced away from him. I could hear Negan's infamous, scratchy laugh as he strode by my side, barking out last minute orders as the lot of us neared the small horde of walkers.

"Stick by me and don't do anything stupid. I know you know how to fight these fuckers," Negan reminded me and then swung his bat to take one down.

I put my back to him, rearing back the pick axe and hitting an advancing walker in the center of its soft forehead. It's growling ceased instantly and it slid off the axe with a nasty sloughing sound, crumpling on the hot asphalt.

I put down two more walkers in a similar fashion, feeling rather exhilarated to be doing something more physical and worthwhile. Plus, it was a great way to left off some steam after the rather shitty day I had. Half the time, I pictured Negan's face as I swung the pointed end of the axe into head after head and felt only a little remorseful about it. It was true that Negan was as pathetic as I called him out to be, and somehow that made me feel bad for him which also made me angry.

"Aaah!" I called out as I smashed in the head of the last walker by me.

I ripped out the axe, black blood splattering on my jeans, and dropped the head of the axe on the road as I worked to catch my breath. I leaned on the butt end of it and shifted around to look back up the road at Daryl to smile at him. He was waving his arms franticly when I heard it, the snarling hiss of a nearby walker. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see it and raise a defending arm as I fell down, the walker falling on top of me.

It was a bigger one and fresher too. It wasn't as weakened as the older walkers and its hands clawed at my face as I pushed its forehead to keep its snapping black teeth away from me. The way we had landed, my legs were pinned together under its weight and my left arm was caught between me and the road. The pick axe lay within arm's reach, but the walker was so strong that I was afraid of looking away from it or moving around too much; I didn't want to give it the slightest chance of getting me.

"Negan!" My voice sounded desperate, scared. How very accurate.

I heard shouts, a commotion, and I worked to keep the walker far away from me as I waited for assistance. I managed to loosen my arm trapped underneath my weight and caught the walker by its neck as it pressed down on me, its skin waxy and thin. I gasped as its neck began to tear open where my fingers were digging into it and the pungent, rotten smell wafted over me.

"Help! Negan! Daryl!" I screamed.

I was starting to think that maybe this was planned. Maybe everyone was just watching and waiting for me to lose and be torn limb from limb. In my mind, I could see Daryl struggling to get to me as the Saviors held him back.

"No!" I yelled in the walkers face and bucked up with the side of my hip, causing it to lose its balance.

Just as I was about to push it off of me, a black boot shot past my head and made contact with the side of the walkers skull. Its head jerked back with an audible snap as it fell away from me, twitching and clawing at the air and its legs tangling with mine as it worked to get back up. Negan stepped over me, raising Lucille high in the air and sending her down on the walker's head in a violent frenzy, bits of decomposed brain matter and bone flying through the air.

I lay prone, unable to move. Negan's feet were on either side of my hips and the giant walker he was beating to a pulp still sagged on top of me, its heavy legs pinning mine.

"Holy shit," I breathed out once Negan stopped and held out a hand. I grabbed it, comforted by the strength it provided as he hauled me to my feet.

The adrenaline had my legs weak and shaky and Negan wrapped an arm around my shoulders as he walked me back to the trucks.

"Gets these dead fucks off the road," he commanded the others and they started dragging the bodies into the ditches at once.

"Holy shit," I said again. "What the fuck was that?"

"That was me saving your ass after you did a shit job of following my instructions," Negan responded nonchalantly.

"Wha-! I did! It came out of nowhere! I thought-! Never mind," I stopped trying to explain myself and stomped up the road to meet Daryl. He must've started run to me because he was halfway down the road with a shovel in his hands.

"Hey, now, calm down," Negan was back by my side instantly, putting his arm around me again.

"I'm fine," I said, but the waiver in my voice betrayed me. Truth was, I was freaked the hell out. "Thank you."

I felt compelled to say it. He had saved my life after all.

"Pleasure's mine, sweetheart," he said as we came up to Daryl. "You go on along, Everly. Get yourself cleaned up and ready to hit the road again. I want to speak to Daryl for a moment."

I paused. A few straggling Saviors stopped behind Negan. The situation didn't feel right to me, but Daryl gave me a nod and squeezed my arm reassuringly. I walked up the road slowly, ready to run back if anything violent broke out, but all I heard were voices and words too far away to understand.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **You never realize how much you need a beta until you get one and you see all the mistakes you make, amirite?! Or that you really have no business writing, ha! Dear Lord... Anyway, I'm working to have chapter 23 ready by Friday, but if not, it will come soon after. You can count on me! *finger guns***

 **One more thing: Daryl and Everly sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g...**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

"Nice weapon of choice," Negan told Daryl, pointing to the shovel in his hand. "You must've known exactly where it was to grab it and get halfway down the road as fast as you did."

Daryl refused to respond and kept a tight hold on the shovel. He had pinpointed several tools as people geared up to take on the walkers and he made sure to keep his options open. Anything could happen at any moment, and seeing as he was weaponless, Daryl made sure to be prepared to use whatever he could.

"Personally, I would've picked something more lethal, but when your choices are limited…," Negan raised his eyebrows in a mocking smile. He took a step forward. "You saw how easy it was. How quickly it can happen. I pushed that walking sack of sludge right to her. Shit, I practically spoon-fed her to the damn thing."

Negan laughed and twirled Lucille once, the air pushing against Daryl as she went by. He wanted to take a step back, but more than that, he wanted to turn his back on Negan, find Everly and run until his legs gave out. Instead, he kept still.

"Now, I bet you had a lot of thoughts running through your mind. How quickly can I get to her? Can she hold it off until I can get there? Would it be worth it to go after Negan instead…?"

Negan wasn't far off point. Daryl had fully intended on killing him if Everly had been overcome by the walker. Negan had watched, smiling so insouciantly, as Daryl yanked a shovel out of a vehicle and hauled ass down the road. It was when he was halfway to her that Negan intervened, taking the walker down easily and then comforting Everly after. It wasn't hard to see what he was doing.

"What's your point?" Daryl replied gruffly. He was tired of hearing Negan's voice and the shovel was starting to feel heavy in his hands. Just one swing, that's all it would take….

Negan held out his arms and turned to his left and right, surveying his men dragging rotten bodies off the road.

"This," he stated matter-of-factly. "This is what it's all about, Daryl. We've made it _this far_ but everyone has an expiration date; even you, even me, even her. Fuck, all the people you and I killed the past few months made it pretty damn far, but where are they now?"

The sounds of labored breathing and corpses being dragged along the asphalt seemed to amplify.

"We're all just running on pure luck, and the way I see it, it's starting to get pretty damn low. All that's left after that luck runs out are the people who have your back. I had her back. I was there for her, and I saved her fucking life. I have a pretty strong feeling she won't take that for granted… But where were you?" Negan held out his hands and shrugged his shoulders. "If it weren't for me, Daryl, she'd be dead. I suggest you take some time to think about that. She's going to."

Negan patted him on the shoulder and started to head up the road to the trucks, but he stopped abruptly, his hand still on Daryl. He leaned in to whisper in his ear. Daryl kept his face forward as he spoke to him. He stared at the pulverized walker as it was dragged into a ditch, chunks slipping off of its smashed in head and littering the road. He thought of Abraham and Glenn.

"Also," Negan said, squeezing down on Daryl's shoulder, "if you tell her what I did, I'll know."

It was a threat, against him or Everly, he didn't know. Daryl could feel Negan smiling. It was like a turned on light bulb with how obvious it was. He let Daryl go with one last hard pat and walked off with his Saviors following behind. All Daryl could see was red.

* * *

They made it back to the Sanctuary without anymore hiccups, pulling in at a much later time than anyone has anticipated. As soon as the vehicles came to a stop, everyone began to lumber out, tired and irritable, to unpack their haul. It was a decent sized haul; four vehicles almost packed full. Alexandria had held up their end of the deal and then some which was no fault of their own. Negan just made certain to take a little bit more each time. They didn't know, however, that they brought back a bit more than food, clothes, and medicine.

"Theodore, Everly, help me out over here with this stuff," Freddy told them.

He made his way to the back driver's side of the pickup and pulled at the tarp straps to loosen them with Theodore on the other. Everly stopped by the tailgate, ready to grab whatever she could. She was tired of being around everyone and wanted some solitude, downtime; some time to think. It had been a long day and it was barely halfway over.

The strap sprung free for both men and they pulled the tarp back to reveal the bed of the truck and everything inside. It wasn't until he was already up, shouting and the machete was arching through the air that they realized their mistake.

"AAH!" Carl yelled as he jumped up and sliced at the air. The machete caught the side of Freddy's face, opening it up and sending a deluge of hot blood to wash down his cheek and neck.

Freddy hunched over, moaning in pain and holding the open wound as blood poured through his shaking fingers. Theodore had lurched back, his hands up and fear in his eyes, and Everly took a few steps back, too. She also felt fear, but it wasn't for herself. It was for Carl.

"Carl!" She yelled disbelievingly.

Daryl watched on a few feet away, eyeballing everyone around the truck. He slowly grabbed for the nearest tool, a crowbar. It wasn't much, but it would do enough if he needed to use it. _Don't do anything any stupider than you already have, Carl_ , he thought.

"Nobody move!" Carl commanded. "I'm only here for Negan and my friends! No one else has to get hurt!"

Daryl let out silent sigh and hid the crowbar behind his leg.

"Ho-lee shit! Am I actually seeing what I think I'm seeing?" Negan asked as he made his way around the truck, his eyes on Carl. "This day just _will not quit_! Kid, you are fucking adorable."

Suddenly, a Savior rushed forward and attempted to wrestle Carl out of the truck, but he was too quick for him. He leapt back, swinging the machete wildly through the air, and the Savior fell on his back, blood squirting out of his neck. Everyone took this as permission to raise their guns and aim at the boy.

"No! Don't! Don't shoot! He's just a kid!" Everly screamed, holding her hands out to everyone.

"Yes, listen to the lady! Don't shoot the kid!" Negan mocked. "He only just maimed Freddy here and sliced Hobo Jim's neck from one fucking ear to the next!"

"Negan, please," Everly begged and held a hand up to him. "Let me handle this."

"Right, I'll let the hysterical woman calm the future serial killer. Oh, wait," Negan looked back to Carl, a speculative look in his eyes, "looks to me like you've already gotten started."

Everyone looked down at the dying Savior whose gurgled breaths could be faintly heard. The blood pumped out of his neck at a rapidly slowing rate, his eyes glassy and unfocused as his fingers twitched at his neck. Finally, he stilled.

"That was an accident," Carl said, a trace of remorse in his voice and the machete in his hand lowered a bit. His eye still burned bright, however.

"Sure it was, kid. Sure," Negan nodded his head.

"I only want to kill you!" Carl screamed at him and pointed the machete in Negan's direction. "Give me my friends back and I'll make it quick."

"Hot damn!" Negan laughed. "Kid, I ain't gonna lie, you scare the shit out of me."

He regarded Daryl and Everly, very amused with the situation. Everly's heart was thumping in her throat, and the minutes seemed to tick by way too slowly. She was thinking of the best way to get Carl out this situation that didn't involve his death.

"Oh, don't worry, darlin'. I ain't gonna kill the little stowaway just yet," Negan walked over to her and hugged her against him with one arm. He turned back to Carl. "Actually, how about we have a look around the place your old pals call home? See what they do day in and day out."

Carl didn't respond at first. He shifted his weight around, moving in a rocking motion, and his muscles tensed as he examined the dangerous people in front of him. His grip on the machete was starting to get slippery.

"Take your arm off of her and let us walk out of here. No one else has to get hurt," Carl said, refusing Negan's offer.

"Kid, no one _does_ have to get hurt but someone _will_ if you don't drop the bullshit karate kid act and get down from the truck," Negan responded, the amusement starting to drain from his voice a bit.

"Carl," Everly reasoned, "put the knife away. I can take you back home. It'll be okay."

"Yeah, put the _knife_ down," Negan chuckled and let her go. "Everyone, lower your guns. Ain't no reason to waste the bullets. Come on, kid, let's go take a walk. You and me."

Carl huffed out a breath through his nose and dropped his arm holding the machete. Everly inhaled deeply and walked up to the truck as Carl jumped down. She grabbed his arm as he straightened up, putting her hand around his that held the weapon.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She whispered angrily at him. "Do you want to get killed?"

Behind the anger, Carl saw how worried and exhausted she looked, and he realized suddenly how reckless he'd been. He was only trying to help, do something good for the people he cared about while also satisfying a part of him that wanted revenge. He now knew what a mistake that had been.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't think things through. I just acted."

"That seems to be the M.O. of you Alexandrians, doesn't it?" Negan remarked as he came up behind Everly. "Act first, ask all the important fucking questions later. You'd think your dumbasses would learn by now."

Carl started to raise the machete again, but Everly's hand pressed it down. After a slight hesitation, he let her take it from him, and she threw it back in the bed of the truck. She kept her body in front of his as she turned to face Negan.

"I'll take care of this. Dwight and Arat can come with us if you'd like. Or anyone else you'd trust."

"No," Negan denied. "No one's leaving the compound tonight. We've got some important things happening later that I want everyone to be present to see, especially the three of you."

He looked to his right over at Daryl and noticed the crowbar in his hand. He chuckled to himself and backed away from the pair in front of him. He threw out his hands.

"Fuck you, kid," he pointed to Carl. "Seriously. Fuck. You."

Negan held his gloved hand out to him, a warm smile dimpling his cheeks. He would've looked charming if he wasn't so evidently demented and dangerous, and Carl's eye was wary on him.

Everly looked back at Carl over her shoulder and her eyes met his. She didn't look one bit happy about the current situation, and something in his mind told him that he didn't have much of a choice in what happened now. The guilt was a fresh wave that washed over him, and he looked back at Negan to take his open hand.

"Atta boy," Negan smiled, shaking his hand and leading him away.

* * *

"So, how old were you when all this shit started? Eleven? Twelve?" Negan asked Carl as they strolled through the compound.

"Something like that," he responded.

Negan wanted to smack him upside the head. His stubbornness was admirable but it was also damn frustrating. The kid was all talk with a machete in his hand but without it now he had nothing to say. Every question Negan had asked him had been short and vague. He needed to throw the little asshole off guard.

"If that's the case, then you've probably never seen a pair of tits in real life, huh?" He said and looked at him out of his peripherals.

Carl's face went red in the blink of an eye, no pun intended, and Negan laughed to himself.

"That must've been frustrating," Negan sympathized. "Going through puberty right as the world ends. Puberty is almost like the end of the world in and of itself; all those hormones and confusing body changes. The angst and perpetual no-one-understands-me thoughts running through your head. I can't help but wonder how that's affected you, for better or worse."

Carl was quiet, and while his face was still red, he didn't make eye contact with Negan anymore. Instead, he kept his head down and let his long hair cover his face.

"It's okay, kid. It's a part of your life now. It's who you are, just like your missing eye. Own it. Don't be ashamed of the fact and no one will see it as your weakness," Negan paused to look down at him thoughtfully. "Let me show you something I think you might appreciate."

Negan led him up to the very top of the compound; a whole thirty stories or more, Carl thought. He didn't exactly keep track, but he felt exhausted and his legs burned with the endless climbing. He recognized how soft Alexandria had made him, and once again, he felt way in over his head. What had he been thinking, sneaking into the back of their truck? He'd had better moments, but he also had the thought that he'd rather be here than back home right now.

Negan stopped at a set of black double doors, turning to face Carl with an excited gleam in his eyes. He smiled down at him, sort of how a loving uncle would, and held up the suspense of the moment with silence. He leaned down a little bit, getting close to Carl so he could talk softly to him and not be overheard.

"You wanna know the best part about being the head honcho of this whole thing?"

Carl thought about it for a minute before coming up with a response.

"Being an asshole with no consequences?"

"No, but it's a close second. It's the women, you shit," Negan said with a wink and opened the doors behind him.

Inside, Carl saw what he meant. Six beautiful women occupied the room, all wonderfully dressed and well-kept. He looked at each one from head to toe, and wondered who exactly they were. Then he figured it out.

"Are all of these…?" He started to ask, but couldn't finish the thought. He felt abashed.

"My wives? Yep," Negan finished for him proudly. "It's okay, kid. Take a good long look. Look at their tits, even. They won't mind."

"Uh," Carl voiced, not sure what to do or say. This was entirely alien to him and he felt like a vulture just standing in the doorway.

"Yeah, it's a bit of a shock, but you know what? I figured, fuck it. It's the end of the world and my marriage fell apart even before that. Why be stuck with one woman when I can have as many as I want?"

Carl looked around again and started to grow concerned. He understood what kind of person Negan was, but he wasn't sure he wanted to dive head first into the rabbit hole. He hadn't prepared himself for _that_ quite yet.

"I know how it looks," Negan said, "but they all made the choice to be here and they can leave just as easily. No strings attached."

"Okay," Carl answered purely because he felt like he had to.

"Come in and take a seat. I'll have one of my wives make you something."

Negan walked in the room and the women got up to greet him, giving Carl curious looks over his shoulder. He walked in slowly, feeling uncomfortable and unsteady. He took a seat on a gray loveseat that looked brand new, or at least barely used. He wondered where it came from.

"Carl, this is Frankie, one of my wives," Negan introduced a nice looking redhead to him. "Frankie, why don't you help Carl settle in while I have a quick chat with Sherry."

He left them then and went to stand by a pretty brunette at a small bar.

"You want anything to drink?" Frankie asked Carl.

He looked up at her once, but quickly averted his eyes. He didn't feel right looking at her.

"Uh-um," he stuttered and wiped his sweaty hands on his knees. "I think I'm good."

He nodded up at her to show he appreciated the offer, making quick eye contact with her once more before looking away again. She sat down next to him, her body facing his and an arm leaning on the back of the couch, her hand in her hair. He scooted away from her a tad, looking in the opposite direction of where she was. He wished she'd go away.

"You know, you're pretty cute. Got a girlfriend?" She asked him.

Carl furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head to her. He saw her smiling teasingly at him.

"Yes," he answered and chose to inspect a rather expensive looking vase on the other side of the room.

"Well, I'm not asking for me," she said as if she thought he misunderstood her. "While you are a cutie, you're a bit young for my taste. And I'm also _married_."

Carl nodded slowly, turning his lips down and drumming his fingers on his knees. He wanted to leave badly. This almost felt worse than being scared for his life earlier; he was used to that. This basically felt like torture.

"There are a lot of pretty girls around here, and Negan seems to have taking a liking to you. I don't think I've seen you around, so you must be new…" Frankie trailed off and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Around those lines," Carl answered her implied question, still drumming silent fingers on his jeans.

"You know, you don't have to be nervous with me. I'm just trying to be nice," she said, leaning over to try to catch his eye.

Carl looked down at his lap, feeling a little bit ashamed for being rude to her. He just wasn't sure how to act. He hadn't expected to be in this sort of situation at all. In fact, he figured he might be taken prisoner, beaten up, or killed, but he had to try. He couldn't leave Daryl and Everly to waste away in this place anymore; not after their visit today.

"Sorry," he told her and finally looked up at her for more than a second. "I'm just kinda…"

"Freaked out?" Frankie offered.

"A bit," Carl obliged and looked over his shoulder to find Negan standing at a bar with the same woman. "I had no idea… I just didn't expect this."

"It's okay," Frankie practically sang. She placed a warm hand on his arm.

Carl smiled at her but it quickly dropped when Negan walked in front of them and to a blonde woman he hadn't noticed before in a far corner. She was crying, and she looked scared. Negan sat down across from her as she wiped tears from her face.

"What's going on over there?" Carl asked. He was afraid he was about to witness something domestic and he did not want to be a part of it.

"Oh," Frankie said as she looked behind her. "That's Amber. She's just…upset about something. It's nothing."

It didn't look like nothing to Carl. The woman was shaking and could barely meet Negan's gaze as they spoke. Something serious must've happened and Carl started to feel increasingly more anxious. He didn't know these women, but he'd protect them if he had to. Nothing at this point could give him more pleasure than killing Negan himself.

He started to think of a way he could do it as he stared at them. He imagined himself rushing him, catching him off guard and caving his head in just like he had done to Abraham and Glenn. His fantasy started to feel like reality as the blonde woman started to cry a bit more, seeming to be begging Negan about something. The brutal thoughts slowly cleared his mind like a thick fog as Negan kissed the woman tenderly on her forehead and stood up. He walked over to stop in front of Carl.

"Come on, kid," Negan told him and waved him up. "Let's go somewhere a bit more private. We've got a shit ton to discuss."

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Yay! I made it to 100 favorites! You guys are awesome. :D**

 **I know I said that this story wasn't a romance, and I still don't think it is, but as Daryl and Everly worked together, it just felt natural for something to blossom between them. I hope that didn't disappoint anyone, and I just want to point out that the story isn't over yet. Other things will happen! Good things, bad things, things that'll probably make you hate (but hopefully love) this story. In any case, just keep all of that in mind. Anything can, and will, happen.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

I paced in front of my cot, unsure of what to do with myself. Negan had taken Carl away several hours ago and Daryl had left with Dwight not too long after. I was alone once more with nothing to occupy my time but my thoughts and they were never any help.

To keep myself busy, I decided to go through the box at the end of my cot, throwing out things that I didn't need or want and sorting what was left. I found the golden locket again, and after some hesitation, I put it on. The weight of it was a calm presence on my chest at first, but as I thought of its previous owner and how the necklace came to be around my neck instead of theirs, it got heavier and heavier. I clawed at my chest, wanting it off of me as it suddenly became harder to breathe, when a gentle hand fell on my arm.

"Everly? Are you okay?"

I looked up, the silver chain a tangle in my fingers, to see Suzanne standing beside me, a worried frown creasing her face.

"Uh," I swallowed hard and nodded, taking deep breaths.

"You need some help?" She started to reach for the locket.

"Y-" I cleared my throat, "yes."

She smiled briefly, the worried look still wrinkling her brow, and reached behind my neck to unclasp it. As the necklace fell from my shoulders, I looked down at the locket and wondered why I even bothered to put it on in the first place. It wasn't mine, it held no value to me, but I felt responsible for it. Like if I had thrown it away, I would be letting down the person it had belonged to before even though she no longer exists. Suzanne reached out a soft hand and took it from my grasp.

"Amanda, huh?" She looked it over and popped it open.

I then realized that I have never looked inside of it and I was suddenly curious to see what it held. I stepped closer to Suzanne to look over her shoulder and saw a little girl, perhaps seven or eight, smiling widely up at us. She was pretty and the gaps in her smile where her baby teeth had fallen out made it even more charming. It wasn't sure if this was Amanda or someone else, but it hurt my heart immensely and I turned away.

I heard the locket click shut.

"She reminds you of someone?" Suzanne asked. I turned back to her, trying my best to compose myself.

"Sort of," I tried to smile.

"She reminds me of someone, too," Suzanne sighed and looked at the locket in her hand again. She tossed it gently back in the box.

"Your granddaughter, Alyssa?" I surmised.

"Yeah," she nodded with a sad smile. "Of course, everything reminds me of her these days."

We stood there in a brooding silence for a moment, thinking about our lost loved ones. The presence of each other was comfortingly adequate that a lack of conversation wasn't awkward, but rather necessary. We didn't need to say how much we were hurting, how scared we felt. We both knew that pain was there and we expressed it silently, our mutual support enough to ease it a little.

"Did you know her?" I asked Suzanne.

"The person here before you? Not really," she answered simply. "I did see her around some. She was very quiet, basically anti-social if you will, and she wasn't here for very long. I never really got the chance to try to know her."

I nodded, looking down at my hands that were twisting the hem of my shirt. I took a seat on my cot and bobbed a leg, trying to get rid of all the nervous energy that had built up inside of me.

"Did she leave or…?" I didn't want to say the word 'die' for some reason. It felt like poison in my mouth just thinking about it.

"I'm not sure actually," she had a confused tone to her voice and she sat down beside me, a pensive look on her face. "She was here maybe all of three months and she hardly ever spoke to anyone. There was one person here, though, that she did speak to quite often, and anytime I ever saw her talk with him their conversations seemed very animated. Each time, I got the sense that she was very excited about something. It was the most expression I'd ever seen her have. It was odd."

Suzanne shook her head thoughtfully and I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"Who did she talk to?"

"Dr. Avery," she answered.

That made some sense to me. Dr. Avery was a very kind and caring person who took care of me when I needed it the most. If Daryl had never been brought here with me, Dr. Avery and Suzanne would be my only friends.

"I could see that," I smiled a little. "Sounds to me like she must've been sick or very depressed and he was cheering her up. I'm sure he was doing all he could to make her feel better."

"I'm sure of it, too. He's a good man," Suzanne smiled back and patted a kind hand on my shoulder.

Abruptly, the doors to the common area slammed open and a group of Saviors strode in, two of them dragging a struggling man between them.

"Come on, guys! You don't have to do this!" He yelled, trying vainly to dig his feet in the concrete floor.

Arat drew a simple metal chair to the middle of the room and waited for the man to be situated in it before tying his hands behind the back of the chair. The man continued to beg and plead for his comrades to let him loose; that this was all a misunderstanding, he just needed a minute to talk with Negan alone, he could fix this, and so on. No one paid him any mind.

I started to ask what was going on when Dwight walked into the room, Daryl not too far behind. He eyes instantly settled on me, and I could tell some shit had and was going to continue to go down.

"Dwight!" The man yelled. "Man, it's me! You know me! I wouldn't do anything to betray Negan! Please!"

Dwight kept his features a hard mask, not even bothering to look at the sweating mess of a man who yearned for his attention. Instead, he took an iron, the obsolete kind that needed to be heated up manually, and placed it into the raging furnace with a hook. The man's howls got louder.

"Don't do this!" Anger bubbled in the man's voice under the fear. "Don't you dare do this! You of all people, Dwight! _Dwight_!"

His name echoed in the cavernous room, a vibrating cry that seemed to circle around infinitely. Dwight kept his back to everyone and stared into the burning embers, his scarred face like glowing marble. All of the occupants in the Sanctuary began to filter in and gather around, silently speculating on what was happening; Sherry and who I assumed to be Negan's other wives among them. They all began to whisper softly, growing louder with time as the man hung his head and whimpered to himself, and then there was a sudden hush as almost everyone got down on one knee and bowed their heads.

I looked over my shoulder to see Negan standing on the walkway above, an eerie smile on his face, and Carl standing beside him, his face red, puffy and sullen. I stood up with my hands balled at my sides and got down on my knee, too, a stab of indignation piercing my chest. I wondered feverishly what had happened between them as Negan began to talk. Where had they been for so long? What had they discussed? Why did it look like Carl had been crying?

"My fellow Saviors, my… _friends_ ," Negan began, his voice overcoming the kneeling crowd, "we are most unfortunately gathered here this evening because of a person I thought I trusted; a person that I gave everything to and expected nothing else in return other than the loyalty that he owed me… This person, he took advantage of my kindness. He took advantage of my trust, my friendship…and he shit right on it!"

Negan laughed sarcastically and drummed on the metal handrail in front of him with his fingers. He turned his smiling face to Carl.

"This, my friends, is what happens when you shit on the things I've so generously given you."

He said something quietly to him then, leaning into his personal space as was his usual move to make those was wanted to intimidate uncomfortable. It seemed to be working on Carl and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. Negan turned back to the bowed crowed and lifted up his hands, signaling for us to stand again.

"You see, and this is very simple, when I give you the world and I save your life, I don't ask for a whole lot in return. Nothing but the mutual respect and fidelity that should come naturally," Negan started down the stairs as he spoke, stopping now and then to survey us in his silent moments. "We are not just survivors of the apocalypse. We _save_ the world from the ugliness that rapes it bloody every damn day. We are here to make this shitstorm of a situation a little less…shitty, if you will. We are _Saviors_ … Most of us…but not all."

He looked pointedly at the man in the chair whose head still hung. He was no longer whimpering now, but his eyes were shut tight, his bottom lip trembling as his listened to Negan's speech. Negan sighed and finished coming down the stairs; he parted through the crowd effortlessly and stopped next to the man.

"Dammit, Mark," Negan sighed again. He bent down, his hands on his knees, to look Mark in the face. "It's time to weed out the bad ones."

"N-Negan, I'm s-sorry. It was a mistake. Please!" Mark whimpered again.

"I know, buddy," Negan smiled gently and nodded. "But you fucked up… And when you fuck up!" Negan stood up and circled around to look at all of us. "You get the iron."

"Noooo!" Mark screamed and struggled against his bindings.

"Rules are rules. You know that," Negan shrugged his shoulders sympathetically. He turned to Dwight and walked over to him.

Dwight lifted the hook to pull out the glowing iron from the furnace. Negan slipped on a thick rubber glove and grabbed the iron by the handle. He turned around slowly, holding the iron in the air.

"No!" Mark yelled again, determination in his voice as he kicked at the ground. The chair moved backward and two Saviors came forward to hold him still.

Negan didn't say anymore. He simply walked up to Mark, the iron a small sun shining in his hand, and brought it down to kiss the left side of his face. I closed my eyes instantly. I didn't want to see, and Suzanne gripped my hand tightly as we listened to Mark's screeching rise in a crescendo and instantly die as he passed out.

I opened my eyes again as Negan pulled the iron away from Mark's face, his burnt and melted skin following it as it ripped from him. My stomach heaved and twisted into knots. Daryl, who still stood by Dwight, caught my eye and we exchanged a meaningful look.

"Damn, Mark," Negan expressed, "that's gonna leave a hell of a… _mark_."

He turned back to face Dwight, a knowing smirking gracing his lips, and placed the iron back on the hook before taking off the glove and shoving it against Dwight's chest. Dwight turned away, his forehead visibly sweaty, and replaced the items in their proper spots. Daryl stared at him, an expression of sympathy and anger converging all at once on his face.

"Now, you all know that I don't take pleasure in this," Negan addressed us again and held his hand out to Mark. "This is not who I am, but rather what I have to be. I cannot be a leader if I can't take control. I hate doing this shit. I really do…but what comes with your betrayal is a reminder. One that is permanent so that it won't be so easily forgotten… Rules are who we are, what we live by, what we believe in. We can't bring order back to the world without them; they are our very foundation... And you cannot be a Savior of this world if you want to take advantage of it, too. I hope y'all will continue to remember that."

Some people clapped or nodded their heads in agreement at Negan's speech, but most stayed silent. They probably felt as utterly helpless and dumbfounded at the sheer hypocrisy and narcissism of the whole thing as I did.

"Get him up and take him to see Dr. Carson," Negan commanded his Saviors. "And someone get a fucking mop. He went and pissed himself."

As his Saviors began their task, the crowd began to slowly disperse. My sights roved over the group, taking in their reactions as they moved back their daily duties. Some people seemed unfazed, others nervous and the rest satisfied.

Suzanne's hand still gripped mine, but I felt her let me go and her breath against my ear as she whispered something to me that I didn't register. As she left my side, I spotted Sherry on the opposite end of the room, hugging and comforting a young blonde woman who cried hysterically on her shoulder. She had to be connected to Mark somehow.

I lifted my head up to find Carl again and saw him standing in the same place, his hands holding the handrail in front of him. He looked pale and horrified. I wanted to comfort him, tell him it was all right and he'd be home soon, but I also didn't want to lie to him either. I wasn't sure what Negan planned to do with him and I was afraid of exacerbating the situation. I turned away instead and headed over to Daryl.

"Where have you been?" I asked him as soon as he was within earshot. Both he and Dwight looked at me.

"Helping me," Dwight answered before Daryl could. He looked at me briefly over his shoulder.

"I didn't ask you," I told him steadily while trying not to sound too bitchy. After what we had just witnessed, I understood his actions a bit better.

"I was gettin' situated with my new role as Savior here," Daryl said, stepping closer to me. "I was also keepin' an eye on Carl."

 _Good_ , I let out sigh. That bit of information made me feel much better.

"Is there a party going on over here or something?" I heard Negan say behind me. He came up to stand by Dwight. "You enjoy the show, Dwighty boy?"

Dwight smirked into the flames, shadows flickering over the scars that would forever mar his face. He shut the furnace door with a small scoff, turning to nod his head and look Negan in the eye.

"Yeah, man. It was a good one."

"Well, I thought so," Negan returned blithely. "I mean, you never do get quite used to the smell of searing half a man's face off, but boy, is it fun."

"You are horrifying," I said automatically.

"Really?" Negan diverted his attention to me. "You've lived thus far through the fucking apocalypse and I'm the most horrifying thing you've ever seen? I mean, I'll take the compliment, but really?"

"I said you were horrifying, not the end-all-be-all," I corrected.

"Oof, following a compliment with an insult. I think I'm rubbing off on you," Negan laughed, regarding me for a moment before addressing Dwight and Daryl. "Go get the boy settled in. Find him a room with a nice, comfy bed. He's spending the night."

"Sure thing," Dwight conceded and patted Daryl on the arm. "Come on."

Daryl stood for a moment, clearly torn between following Negan's orders and attending to Carl or staying with me. Considering how the past half hour went, I was glad he made the choice to follow Dwight, giving me a brief kiss on the head before he went. I smiled inwardly, but kept my eyes cast down as he left.

"That one is bold," Negan muttered to me as he watched Daryl go. "And dammit, do I like the son of a bitch anyway."

He smiled down at me and then held out a leather clad arm. He waited patiently me for me to take it, and I did so reluctantly, flicking my eyes over my shoulder to see Sherry and her sister wives around her. She gave me a warning look and shook her head. I knew what she was trying to say.

 _Don't do it._

We started out of the room.

* * *

We walked around the Sanctuary, Negan lead me to places I'd never seen before to inform me on things I needed to know now that I'd been promoted. I didn't say a lot in response but just took it all in silently. I felt very overwhelmed and exhausted. The day had been long, filled with much more surprises and adventures than I'd expected. It seemed to be lasting an eternity, like I had died and was stuck in Limbo.

As we made it to the top of the factory, he opened a door and led me outside on a walkway. We were very high up and I saw the ground swimming underneath my feet; I clutched Negan's arm tighter and he smirked.

"Look at all of that," he told me as he looked out into the distance. "It's beautiful, right?"

He smiled down at me again, rubbing my hand that clung to his forearm. I wanted to let him go, but I feared I might lose my balance and fall if I did. Or that he might push me to my death. I held onto him tightly.

"Everything you see from up here is mine," he spoke again. "Every last square inch you can see, even beyond what you can't see, it belongs to me. I own every speck of dust and shit from here to fucking China for all you know. And because of that, sometimes I have to do depraved things to keep my people in check. And I am in charge of a fuck ton of people."

"Tell me something I don't know," I replied.

"You see, Everly, I don't think you understand the gravity of what it is I have to do around here to keep shit in line," he let me go and settled his back against the handrail, leaning down so that he rested on his forearms. His eyes met mine. "I saw the way you looked at me when I melted that asshole Mark's face. I saw the way you and everyone else in that room looked at me. It's not easy being me despite how differently you might regard the fact. But let me ask you, how else can I hold my power if I don't instill a little fear in them?"

"Um, I don't know," I crossed my arms and shrugged my shoulders sardonically. I took a step closer to the wall behind me. "Perhaps leading honestly, fairly, compassionately? I feel like we've already discussed this."

"Yes, some," he agreed and smiled, "but you still give me that look like I'm the worst fucking thing to ever walk the Earth."

"Who says you aren't?"

"Fuck, I don't know. Maybe I am," he admitted and shrugged easily. "But what about Rick and your _family_?"

"What about them?" I asked.

"Carl and I had a nice long chat, got to know each other's histories a little. He told me quite a few things about himself, about Rick, about you and Daryl. You know what he told me? He told me that he shot his own mother. I don't know what you think," Negan held his hands up with a smile, "but that shit just screams mental health issues to me. I'm pretty fucked up, but I ain't _that_ fucked up."

"You have no right to compare yourself to him. That situation was completely different from anything you've ever done," I snapped, my voice starting to shake.

"I don't? Because it seems to me like he's killed people, I've killed people, Rick and his goons have killed a whole mess of people. Why am I the only one who has to carry a stigma around?"

I kept my mouth closed. He had to know perfectly well the difference between himself and everyone else. We had killed to survive or make our chance of survival that much higher. When there was a threat, we took care of it. Negan did it for control and for fun; he was perfectly comfortable in his position. We had never been a threat to him. Not a major one at least…

"You know I'm right," he said, straightening up and coming to stand just in front of me. I felt cornered. "I might be the bad guy, Everly, but so are you, and Rick, and every other motherfucker still breathing. The end of the world doesn't exist to bring out the best in people. That's why it called the end of the world."

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 ***cue TWD theme music* I don't know. I felt like that last line was kind of profound, but maybe it's just me, haha. I'm slowly getting back on track and I'm working to keep it that way so installments can be regularly updated. Sorry this one was a bit later than usual, but it happens.**

 **I'm behind on the show. I watched two episodes last night, and I think there are only three left for me to see, but I realized (and I should've known this before) that my story is going to go farther than where the show is going to end for this season. I think you guys are aware that I'm sticking to the main premise of the show/comics, and I want you guys to doubly know that how my story ends will be similar to what happens in the comic books (possibly the show, too). So, with that in mind...I may spoil next season for you. Granted, I have no idea where AMC is going to take everything. Something _completely_ different could happen! I have a feeling, though, it's going to stick to the main story line of the comics as it typically does** **. I need to give out this warning because I'd hate to ruin anything for those who have only watched the show.**

 **On a different note, welcome to all of my new readers! I'm glad you're here. And high fives to all my original readers still kicking it.**

 **Okay, new readers can have a high five, too.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Daryl, Carl, and an accompanying Savior walked behind Dwight as he led them to the room where Carl would spend the night. Daryl wasn't too happy about the situation. In fact, he was quite pissed with Carl and his boneheaded impulsivity that landed him here in the first place. He really wanted to give him an earful, and maybe give that ear a nice wallop, too, to drive his point home; but it would do no good. He was here now and no amount of words or smacks upside the head would change that.

Carl stayed silent, his face less red and wet than it was before, but he was still visibly shaken and pale from Negan's demonstration earlier. Daryl figured out Mark was the man who abandoned his outpost earlier which caused the roaming herd of walkers to impede their way back home. Mark had been lucky, however, that the larger group hadn't made their way any farther along than they had. He would have certainly lost a lot more than a patch of skin on the left side of this face, and Daryl was thankful that was all they witnessed.

It did get him thinking about how easily he could be in that chair next. He had purposely shown up Negan when he kissed Everly - not once, but twice. The second time right after Negan chose to torture a man in front of everyone for playing hooky to be with one of his wives instead. Granted, Everly wasn't his and she never would be, but Daryl and anyone else would have to be a fool to not realize how much Negan desired her. The memory of Everly telling him that Negan kissed her was enough to get Daryl's heart rate up and the blood pumping in his ears. His hands clenched into fists at the visual it brought up in his mind.

"You'll be sleeping in here," Dwight said to Carl as he opened a door to a small room. Inside was nothing but a bed and a bare shelf. "No windows and no doors except this one right here which will be locked from the outside. You'll also be guarded, so don't think about trying to break out either."

"What about food? And what if I need to use the bathroom?" Carl asked, his voice taking on a slight whiny edge.

"We'll bring you food, and if you need the bathroom, just ask for it," Dwight answered.

Carl looked at Daryl. He was hoping that if he played scared these people would go easy on him, and possibly underestimate him, too, but it didn't seem to be working on Dwight or the potbellied Savior behind him.

"Go on in, Carl. You'll be safe in there and one of us will be by later," Daryl told him. Carl, with a big heaving sigh, shuffled into the room.

Dwight shut the door and locked it, pocketing the key as the fellow savior took up guard in a chair opposite the door.

"If he needs the bathroom, let him use it and keep a close eye on him. Otherwise, don't let him out and keep your hands to yourself. You'll be relieved in a few hours," Dwight told the man.

"I think I can manage it," the Savior said, shifting back in the chair to get comfortable.

"You better, babysitter, or it'll be your fucking face next," Dwight threatened. He turned to Daryl. "After me, bitch boy. Let me show you _your_ new room."

* * *

"Where are you keeping Carl?" I asked Negan.

We were still outside at the top of the factory, my hair billowing around my head in the wind. I wasn't sure if he was trying to impress or intimidate me by bringing me up here and I decided I didn't care either way. I only wanted to make sure Carl was going to be okay and then get down on the ground as soon as possible.

"You wanna keep an eye on the boy?" He asked bemusedly. "Seeing as he's only got the one, I'm sure he wouldn't mind. I can add you to the rotation."

"Really?" I furrowed my brows.

"No," he smiled. "That was a joke. An obvious one, I thought."

He moved from the railing to stand beside me and leaned against the wall. He gazed out at the horizon again to watch the setting sun. I stayed silent.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea. I think I will put you on as a guard," he gazed at me from the corner of his eyes. "Not for Carl, but for everyone else. You'll watch over them and make sure my little worker bees are buzzing. Maybe go out on a run here and there to get some fresh air."

"Okay, I can do that…," I thought carefully about my next question. "Do I get a gun?"

Negan laughed.

"Hell no! The fucking thing would be shoved in my face as soon as it landed in your hands," he laughed some more. "You won't get any sort of weapon and you most certainly won't be allowed to go near any of them either, but with a promotion comes the perks… You will earn points more easily. And you'll get your own room, too."

I perked up at that. The prospect of having my room was so immensely desirable that I almost forgot I was still stuck in a place I didn't want to be. It did make this long ass day a bit more bearable, though. Having my own room would be a start to becoming more comfortable here and while that wasn't quite what I wanted, I might as well enjoy the benefits now and use them to my advantage.

"I'd like it even better if I could go back to my actual room in my actual house," I countered.

"I bet you would, but _actually_ …your real room is here in your real home," he shifted his body to face toward me, his shoulder on the wall and his arms crossed. "Tell me more about your life before it ended. When that biter bitch had you pinned down, did it flash before your eyes? Did you see everything you used to have before you descended into hell two years ago?"

"I was already in hell before any of this shit started," I confessed, looking down at my feet.

"Oooh, now I'm intrigued. How so?" Negan got a bit closer to me, eager to hear my story.

"I don't know why you would even pretend to care," I scoffed and set my gaze away from him.

"Hey," he said softly and grabbed my chin, pulling me so that I had to look up at him. "I _do_ care. Maybe not about as many things as I should, but don't mistake me. I'm _more_ than willing to listen if you're willing to share."

"Stop acting familiar with me," I yanked away from him. "You don't know me and I know for a fact that the only part about me you _do_ want to get to know is between my legs, so save the bullshit for someone who'll buy it."

I wanted to leave. I wanted to get off of this high walkway and find somewhere I could be alone. Most importantly, I wanted to be away from him, the person that could kill and maim people without flinching and wear a smile while he was doing it.

I made for the door, being sure to stay close to the wall lest I get too close to the edge or Negan decided hurling me off the side would be a good idea after all. Then I realized it. He wouldn't do that; maybe not because he cared about me like he claimed he did but because I _was_ important to him in some way. Why else would I be here still? Why else would he give me what liberties I had already? Why else would he have saved me from that walker…?

I looked back at him, scrutinizing his features as he stood in the same spot staring out at the sunset again. He didn't seem angry. He didn't even have on his trademark smile. He looked sort of…sad, and he hadn't tried to stop me from leaving. That was odd.

"I like to come up here at times…," he spoke without looking at me, "to be alone. I was thinking about what you said earlier in the truck. About your dad."

He looked at me then, giving me a sympathetic lift of his lips. I pushed my hair that still fluttered around my head behind my ears and gave him a quizzical look.

"What about him?"

"I've lost someone to cancer, too," he said so softly that I barely heard him. I took a step forward. "I know what it's like to live with that pain… Fuck," he expressed, looking away from me. He ran a hand down his face and shook his head, "I still feel it."

I sighed, torn between feeling sorry for him again and not giving a shit. My nurturing nature was starting to get the best of me as I fought the urge to comfort him. I was ninety-nine percent sure this was bullshit again, but he looked so sincere…and I knew exactly what he was feeling _if_ he was telling the truth.

"If you're making this shit up, you're a bigger fuck that I thought," I spat out as I came up and leaned against the wall beside him.

"I'm not," he looked down at me, his face serious and his voice deep with emotion. The sympathy surged through me so violently that I almost said _aw_.

 _Motherfucker_ … I started to roll my eyes, but gritted my teeth instead. I didn't want to dismiss his pain despite the fact that he was good at doing it to others. I wasn't him, I reminded myself.

"Who had cancer?" I ventured to ask.

He didn't acknowledge me but left my gaze again to stare out into his infinite beyond. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"She was the first walker I met," he finally said. "At the hospital, right after she died. She turned right as humanity shit on itself."

"And…," I said. _I_ was starting to get a bit interested now.

"Not before you, doll," Negan smiled at me then. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, there isn't much to know. My dad got cancer and died, but thankfully it was long before everything happened. He was fortunate enough to miss all of this. Can I go now?"

I pushed off the wall, but he caught my shoulder and I fell back against it. He let his hand stay there for a second, and then tenderly, he slid it down my arm and back to his side. His lingering smile was faint.

"What about…after?" He asked me slowly.

I considered what to say for a moment. Being as vague as I was before probably wasn't going to satisfy Negan, and as the day grew darker and colder, I just wanted to be inside and unconscious, no matter if it was in my old cot or in a new room.

"It was fine for a while," I spoke, annoyed. "My mother, she was devastated and she stayed that way. She had help at first and she managed to keep herself together for nearly three years before she completely lost it. The neglect wasn't really apparent to anyone. Not even really to me because I was still young, until a few years later when I was old enough to understand. When I recognized it wasn't normal for her to leave us all night to go to the bar, bring home strange men, never pay the bills, smell like alcohol all the damn time, not wake up in the mornings to the point where I'd yell and hit her, trying to wake her up and thinking she was dead, too…"

His eyes were soft on me, his smile and humor gone, replaced with pity, sympathy, something I didn't ever expect to see on his face. It was my turn to watch the sunset now as I told the rest of my story.

"She met Peter when I was twelve. She married him and he was just like her but in a meaner, more sadistic sort of way. He was incapable of…being human it seemed. He rarely smiled, never outwardly enjoyed anything, was always miserable, and every problem that happened in his life he related directly to us. Like it was our fault simply because we existed," a bitter laugh escaped me.

"Who else was with you?" Negan asked.

I stiffened. I hadn't paid close enough attention to my words and I was kicking myself for it. I decided to lie then.

"Just my mother," I answered, giving him a quick sideways look.

"No, she wasn't," he said. "You said, 'leave us all night'… Who else was with you?"

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, steeling myself.

"Mason," I replied close-lipped.

"He's your brother?" Negan surmised.

"Was…my brother," I corrected.

We were silent for a moment, and Negan didn't pressure me into speaking right away. He must've seen how much it upset me to talk about him and how little I desired to do so. I didn't even want to say his name, I had kept it inside of me for so long. Negan was the last person I ever expected to say it aloud to. I didn't think I'd ever say it again.

"Did you lose him somewhere?" Negan's voice was hushed in my ear. "Did he turn?"

I felt the tears then, hot and automatic. I held myself back as much as I could, not wanting to break down up here with someone who would surely take advantage of my vulnerable state. I wiped at my face, angry that I was being forced to speak about this and upset with myself that I was giving in.

"Everly," Negan pressed gently.

"No," I spat at him. "He died before any of this. Another fortunate happening in the bouts of constant misery, I suppose, all things considered."

"Tell me what happened," he requested as I wiped my face with the hem of my shirt. It did no good; the tears a steady stream down my face.

"Peter," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I got kicked out. I was old enough to live on my own then, but I couldn't take Mason with me. They wouldn't have let me had I tried, but it wouldn't have mattered. I had no way to take care of him. I could barely take care of myself. He had to stay with them, alone."

I took a moment to calm myself before pressing on.

"When I lived with them, Mason and I didn't get much in the way of care. We were more like tracked-in mud that stained the carpet, unwanted but always there. We only got what we did because it was an obligation to them. And my mother… Fuck, I don't think she was coherent for that entire marriage; he controlled everything. It was like she died a long time ago along with my father."

Negan remained patient with me. He was absorbed in everything I was saying, his expression the same. I felt his fingers brush mine as he grabbed my hand, and I let him hold it.

"Mason… He was weak, frail. He'd always been a little bit sickly, but his health declined once I left. I blame it-," I choked out a sob, "-it's because of me. I left and it broke his heart. And Peter was nothing but cruel to him while my mother lay drunk and stupid in bed all day. And I did nothing about it, couldn't do anything about it though I tried. I should've tried harder…

"He died in his sleep by himself, alone in his room that was bare of anything but a bed, a handful of old, broken toys and an empty bowl… They found antifreeze and benzos in his system during the autopsy. His skin had chemical burns where he had thrown up in his sleep, from where the ingested chemicals and stomach acids ate away at him. Peter force-fed him…a fucking bowl of soup mixed with antifreeze…and enough drugs to make sure he passed out too soon to do anything about it. And he covered everything up so _professionally_ ; made it look like a suicide… He almost got away with it. The only one who did was my mother."

"And then?" Negan whispered, his hand squeezed mine.

"Peter was convicted, and I didn't see my mother for almost a year after Mason's death. I only saw her one last time after she reached out to me and begged me to see her. I went. I don't know why, but I did. And everything was…absolutely ruined," the image of my mother, disheveled and sunken in as she wallowed in her stained bed, crying and yelling for me to stay with her, would forever haunt me. "She begged me to stay, not to leave. She told me she was sorry for what she did to us and that she couldn't live with herself anymore. She said she was going to kill herself if I went, if I couldn't forgive her…and I couldn't. I walked right out… I never saw her again."

"Damn," Negan remarked, his tone solemn. "That's fucked. You don't know if she's surviving out there?"

"She killed herself that night," I informed him. "And I highly doubt the bitch would've made it far anyway."

I took my hand from Negan's and wiped my face with my shirt one last time. The tears had stopped a while ago, but I still felt wrecked. I leaned my head back and let my eyes fall shut. If I could, I would fall asleep right here, fear of heights be damned.

"Well," Negan started, "my story isn't quite as long nor is it as fucking abysmally sad-"

"Then don't bother with it," I snarled and headed for the door back inside. He grabbed me again, his arm around my waist and pulling me back.

"Wait, wait," he said. "I didn't mean it as an insult, I swear. You know my mouth runs away from me before I even know what shit's come out of it sometimes."

I pushed his arm away from me. I could give a fuck about what he did or didn't mean.

"You got what you wanted. Just let me go."

"No," he said and held me against the wall with his hands on my shoulders. "You shared something very intimate with me, and I want to return the favor. You asked me who had cancer…," he sighed, "it was Lucille. My wife."

He took his hands from my shoulders, but stayed standing in front of me.

"You were at the hospital with her when she died and…turned?" I implored.

"Yes, and shit went south fucking fast," he shook his head. "She was more susceptible to becoming sick, going through chemo and all. The sickness that took most of the population out took her out as well. And I dismissed her through most of her sickness, not wanting to face the reality of it. It wasn't until I heard her flatline that it did become real and I realized what a fool I'd been."

"Is it because of that that you're such an insufferable twat now?" I raised an eyebrow at him, but felt sorry the instant the words left my mouth. My face started to get hot.

" _Je_ -sus, that shit fucking hurt," Negan smiled, leaning down at bit to look at me more closely. "I _am_ rubbing off on you, I fucking knew it."

"Do you think she'd be proud of who you are now? What you've become?"

"Frankly, I could give a fuck what she'd think, she's dead," he replied honestly. "I've moved past that point. I asked myself all the 'what if' questions and the only thing I learned from them was that it had been a fucking waste of time. Like I said before, we are where we are because of the choices we make, and I got to where I am by taking what I wanted. I try not to dwell on the past and I sure as shit don't let it eat me up inside. I still feel her loss, I'll admit that, but I consider that pain my strength… You shouldn't let yours hinder you. Not anymore."

He put a hand through my hair, his palm warm against my temple. I swallowed and pressed my back further against the wall.

"I know you're scared," he whispered as he stared down at me. "You're afraid of losing the only thing that's ever come close to what you'd call a family, and fuck me, I'm the one who ripped you away from them. That breaks my heart because the last thing I'd ever want to do is tear apart a family. That shit has meaning to me… However, I've got one of my own to watch out for, a mighty damn big one, and you're a part of it now," he smiled. He leaned down and tilted his head so that his mouth was closer to my ear. "And I just want you to know that if I had the option to do everything over again…I'd do it the same damn way. Every. Single. Time."

* * *

Carl paced in his tiny room, restless and annoyed. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't like being trapped in here. It gave him nothing to do which was against his plan. He stomped up to the door to bang on it again.

"Hey, I've really gotta piss man. Please," Carl whined.

"Shut up. I ain't lettin' ya out," the Savior responded.

Carl threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"I'm gonna piss all over this floor in here!" Carl warned. "I'll tell them you denied me bathroom privileges! I bet they'll make you clean it up…with a straw! Make you suck it all up from the floor!"

He then heard the screeching of a chair and shuffling coming near the door. The tumblers clinked as the Savior unlocked it and opened it up to reveal he was a different person from the one before. This guy was older and softer. Carl could easily knock him on his ass and run. Then perhaps he could find Negan.

"Ya know what this is, boy?" The man held up a fist. He grabbed Carl by the collar of his shirt and yanked him so that his knuckles were in his face.

"Your girlfriend?" Carl asked cheekily.

"Ya fuckin' punk. I'm gonna kick your ass," the now redfaced Savior said and cocked his arm back.

"Hold on there, Charlie," Dwight spoke as he came up to the two. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"This twerp won't keep his whiny bitch mouth shut. He keeps asking for the bathroom, but I was told not let 'im out," Charlie explained. He lowered his fist, but he still had Carl's shirt clutched in his hand.

Dwight gave the man an impatient look before turning it onto Carl.

"Let him go. I'll take him," Dwight told Charlie and motioned for Carl to step over to him.

Charlie shook his head and gave Carl a rather nasty glare as he let him go, spewing out muffled curses under his breath.

"I'm glad I ain't never had any of yus," he huffed out.

"Shit, me too. You'd make a terrible father," Carl whispered to himself, straightening his shirt. He looked up at Dwight.

"This way," Dwight told him as he led him to the bathrooms.

The hallways were mostly dark, punctuated at regular intervals with a single illuminated lightblub. It was eerily quiet, too. The same busyness the factory held before was absent now that its occupants were asleep. It made Carl feel giddy; he was on an adventure again. Now if only he could lose Dwight…

"Do you really need to take a piss?" Dwight asked and peered at him over his shoulder.

"Not really," Carl admitted.

Dwight faced forward again and kept walking, leading him somewhere. Carl became confused and he thought of what he could do to sneak away.

"Where are you taking me?" He decided to ask, curious.

"Be quiet," Dwight told him.

He stopped in front of a door, looking both ways down the hall before opening it and ushering Carl inside. Carl entered the room, mostly against his will but a smidgeon of him was also wondering what would happen.

"Can you keep your mouth shut or do you just like to spout off shit without thinking at all?" Dwight asked him as soon as he had carefully shut the door and locked it.

"Depends on what I need to keep quiet about," Carl glared at Dwight. "Also, your room is fucking repulsive."

Carl examined the room in open disgust. Clothes, boxes, food, and wrappers among other things littered the room. It also smelled like what Carl assumed a strip club must've smelled like; full of smoke and strong body odor. Carl grimaced.

"Take a seat," Dwight ignored him, clearing off a chair near the far back wall.

"Where? On the garbage pile in the corner?"

"Just sit the fuck down," Dwight pointed to the chair. Carl obliged and crossed his arms once he was in the chair.

"So, what? We gonna have a slumber party?" Carl asked.

Dwight pulled up another chair to sit in front of Carl, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. He put his hands together, like he was about to pray, and stared at the floor for a second. Carl furrowed his brow.

"Whaaaaa-?" He started to ask after a minute.

"I can help you," Dwight cut him off, his voice low.

"Huh?" Carl felt perplexed.

"I can help you, your dad, everyone. I know a way to get at Negan," Dwight explained.

Carl took a minute to process that. A range of emotions coursed through him as he pondered the implications and possibilities of what was being said to him right now. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly. He wasn't sure of what to say.

"I overheard your dad, Daryl, and Everly talking about it back in Alexandria when I stood at the door. It wasn't too hard to make out what they were saying, and I know they are going to try to plan something. That your dad has already _been_ trying to plan something."

Butterflies cut through Carl's stomach and his eye widened. He leapt out the chair, ready to make a run for the door, but Dwight caught him easily and roughly sat him back down. Carl gripped the sides of the chair as he stared up at Dwight.

"Nothing like that happened," Carl was thinking on the fly. He figured denying it would be everyone's best bet. "I bet this is just a trick from Negan so that he has an excuse to take us out. Well, it's not going to work! We haven't been planning shit!"

Dwight face contorted into anger then as he slammed a hand over Carl's mouth. He looked behind him at the door, listening for a couple of moments for any noises outside before turning back to Carl.

"Don't raise your fucking voice at me again," Dwight quietly sneered at him. "This isn't some fucking test from Negan. This is me trying to help you out, so shut the hell up and let me elaborate. Can I take my hand off you now or are you gonna scream at me again and wake everyone the fuck up?"

Carl gulped and shook his head, his hands balled at his thighs and ready for a fight. Dwight moved his hand away, staying close to him for a few second to see if he'd try to run or yell again. When Carl stayed still and only stared angrily up at him, Dwight backed up to his chair and sat down again.

"Why should I trust you?" Carl asked him in a normal tone.

"You really have no reason, too," Dwight conceded. "But trust me when I say that if Negan really wanted you dead, you would be by now. He doesn't need to find an excuse to kill you. He could easily take over Alexandria and make everyone inside a dead defender of her walls if he wanted to."

Carl thought about all the chained up and staked down walkers he saw around the Sanctuary fence and shuddered. Dwight was proving a point. But could he really help them? And why help them now, all of sudden?

"Why would you want to help us?" Carl spoke aloud his thoughts.

"You asked me earlier how I got my scar…," Dwight stared at him for a minute to let him think about the answer. They both thought about Mark. "After what you saw tonight, you know…and that's why I'm going to help you find a way to bring that piece of shit down."

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker. :D**


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Carl sat uncomfortably between Negan and a chauffeuring Savior named Jamie, drumming his fingers on his bobbing knees. He looked to his right at Negan who lounged back against his seat, his elbow resting on the bottom of the open window and his gloved hand holding the top. He watched the scenery passing by them, only giving Carl a glance every now and then, but nothing more. Carl had to admit he found Negan's silence a little more than unnerving since he typically had something to say. Not today, it seemed.

Carl faced forward again as the wind continued to whip around at them, filling the dead air with noise. He wasn't thrilled to be going back home with the help of Negan who was still alive and unharmed. He had wanted to arrive home avenged and with blood on his hands, as a man who had stood up for his people. Instead, he would walk through the gates of Alexandria still a boy, empty handed, and with the enemy. It burned Carl's heart to think of it. How could he have screwed up his goal so badly?

The only thing that did seem to somewhat pacify the sickness he felt in his chest was his discussion with Dwight the night before. Well, if feeling certainty and hopelessness at the same time could pass for pacification. Carl wasn't sure what to make of the exchange he had with Dwight; he was still unsure it had really happened. He had woken up that morning with the vague feeling he dreamt it all, but he knew it had been real. He remembered every detail of it. And when he saw Dwight before Negan had shoved him in the truck, Dwight had stared unblinkingly at him until the truck left the gate and Carl couldn't see him anymore. That was more than an indication that last night had been real.

So with a new objective in sight, Carl felt useful again and hoped that he would get another shot at Negan. He was aware of what decisions could be made and he decided that choosing the good ones were the way to go from now on. No more running blindly headfirst into the belly of the beast. Carl was lucky he made it out unscathed and only a tiny bit humiliated and traumatized. A lot worse could've happened. Next time, he needed to take his time, plan things out, and band together with his people. He would lose greatly otherwise.

Carl hoped that what Dwight told him was true, that he was going to help them get out from underneath Negan's boot. Without him, this whole mutiny thing would be a lot harder to accomplish as their planning had already proved. Not to mention that if Dwight was going to double-cross them, they'd be dead for sure. Carl determined that not agreeing to take Dwight's help outright would be the smartest thing to do. That could come at another time after he spoke with his father. And Negan couldn't punish anyone if they never took the help; it would just be a failing attempt to incriminate them.

Carl saw Alexandria up ahead, and his stomach clenched with anticipation. He flicked his eye back and forth between Negan and Jamie but neither of them said a word. Carl leaned forward as they came to a stop in front of the gate.

"You wanna do the honors? I'm sure the first thing daddy will want to hear is all about your little adventure and it might be best if it came from your lips," Negan spoke to Carl.

Carl's sweaty hands gripped his knees as Negan gave him a sideways smile, pulling the handle on the door and pushing it out with his foot. Negan raised his hands up briefly in question when he didn't answer.

"Fine, kid, have it your way," Negan said and stepped out of the truck to strut up to the gate, Lucille in hand.

"Open it up."

Carl heard Gabriel call down to someone from his post as he climbed out of the truck. He wanted to stay hidden inside the cab all of a sudden, ashamed for what he had done. He knew that sneaking into Negan's truck yesterday had been a mistake, but he wasn't ready for the lecture he was sure to get from his father.

"Carl?" Tara said once the gates were open.

Gabriel joined her side, his eyes going wide once they landed on him.

"Yes, it's Carl. And me, and a few of my men and women who had to drag their asses back here to bring him back home," Negan answered, grabbing Carl's shoulder. "Seems like the little guy got a bit bored yesterday, wanted to go for a ride with Uncle Negan; test out his sword fighting skills. Ain't that right, kid?"

Negan gave Carl's shoulder a good shake. Carl studied the ground while Tara and Gabriel exchanged a perturbed look.

"Well, don't keep me waiting. Rick the Prick around?" Negan asked them.

"Actually, he isn't," Gabriel replied. "He and Aaron went out on a supply run after you left yesterday afternoon. They haven't returned yet."

"Well, shit on me," Negan stomped a foot and turned his attention on Carl. "I guess that makes you the host until he returns. Why don't you show me where home is, kid? It's the least you could do after I showed you mine."

Negan told his surrounding Saviors to make themselves useful, to find something interesting to do, as Carl started forward, Negan's hand still on his shoulder as he kept pace with him. Carl didn't look up as he passed by Tara and Gabriel, afraid to meet their gaze and see disappointment there. He wanted to tell them what he had planned, what he had learned and why he was returning home with the one person no one ever expected him to be with, but he kept his mouth shut and led the way to the house he shared with his father, his sister, and Michonne.

"You'd think people would be a little bit more grateful to me for bringing home their leader's son, but instead I'm getting fucking confused sideway glances and eat-shit-and-die glares," Negan whispered to him. "It's like they don't understand why the hell I'm back here so soon. Weird, huh?"

Carl grimaced as Negan softly chuckled and gave his shoulder a rough shove.

Carl had initially felt relieved when Gabriel informed them of Rick's absence, but that relief was swiftly batted into the ground when Negan decided to stay anyway and continue to make him the center of attention.

"This is it," Carl said monotonously, lifting a hand up to his house.

"Well…you gonna invite me inside?" Negan asked him.

Carl rolled his eye and went up the steps, a smiling Negan following behind him. When he opened the front door, he saw Olivia straight ahead in the kitchen, cleaning. She got the same look Tara and Gabriel had when they first saw him with Negan.

"Holy suburban hell!" Negan exclaimed. "Bend me over and fuck me silly, this is the coolest fucking house I've ever seen."

He gave Carl a sarcastic smirk as Olivia rushed over, her brows knitted in worry.

"Uh…Carl? Where have you been?" She said as she wrung her hands together. She cast a quick glance at Negan and whispered, "What is he doing here?"

"He's waiting for dad to get back," Carl replied unenthusiastically.

"But…he was just here yesterday. He already took-"

"Yes, _I_ was here yesterday…" Negan cut her off, bringing Lucille down to proper her up against the wall. He looked Olivia in the eye who shrunk back a step. "But our little pal here thought it would be a good idea to sneak into my compound, try to murder me, and whisk your friends, Daryl and Everly, back here like the fucking hero he wishes to be." Negan gave a hearty chuckle as he pulled Carl in a chokehold hug. "He almost got it done, he was so close! But…he went and fucked around and ended up killing someone else instead."

Negan let Carl go with a rough smack in the middle of his shoulder blades, making him stumble a step. His skin stung where Negan's hand landed, but it didn't feel as bad as the look Olivia was giving him. Her eyes were wide with shock and she looked horrified. He wondered how his dad would look at him once he found out and if it would sting just as bad if not worse. He didn't looked forward to finding out.

"Carl?" Olivia questioned.

"Oh shit, it's okay," Negan held up placating hands. "He really didn't kill anyone of worth. I mean, the fucking loser got his throat slashed open by a damn teenager. What kind of pussy goes out like that?" He laughed and pointed at Carl, "Makes him a badass, though."

Olivia turned her horrified expression onto Negan which then swiftly turned into anger. She quickly pressed her lips together, biting back what had been at the tip of her tongue.

"What? Is my filthy fucking mouth too dirty for you?" Negan took a step closer to her.

"I'd prefer," Olivia took a step back, her voice shaking but determined, "if you'd tone down the language, yes. There are other productive ways to discuss what happened without using a curse every other word."

Negan's smile got wider and light laugh escaped him as his eyes danced over Olivia. He took a step forward again, closing the distance she had tried to make before.

"Well," his voice got soft as he leaned over her, "I'd prefer…if you and I spent this time waiting on your fearless leader using more productive words as well. Such as, it would be enjoyable to fuck your brains out or does your pussy match the drapes? Wait…" Negan's expression became confused, "that's not quite right, is it?"

Carl heard the smack before his brain registered the slap. He jumped at the sound, his heartbeat kicking it up a notch and the butterflies tearing at his stomach again. He was afraid to move.

Olivia began to cry as she looked up at Negan. She had smacked the smile right off his face, but as the tears flowed down her cheeks, it slowly came back to dimple his bearded cheeks. He brought his face down close to hers and she leaned away instinctively.

"I'm about fifty percent more into you now," he whispered to her and laughed as a small scoff of disgust escaped her. "Alright. I'll back off. I'm just gonna kick my boots off and relax while I wait for ol' Rick. Why don't you be a lamb and make use some lemonade?"

"I'm not supposed to-" Olivia began over her tears.

"Make it." Negan's voice was stern. "Make it so I'll have something to enjoy while I bide my time…"

Olivia gave Negan one last look before turning her teary eyes to Carl. She scurried to the door, throwing it open and rushing outside. It closed loudly behind her.

"Really?" Negan turned to Carl with an incredulous laugh.

"Well, you weren't exactly pleasant to her," he explained even though he was _fifty percent_ sure Negan knew what he was doing. He looked at the door Olivia left through.

"Eh," Negan said, following Carl's gaze, "too late to apologize now. Show me around, kid. What secrets does this house hold?"

Carl immediately thought of Dwight and quickly looked away from Negan as he started to show him around the house. Negan seemed genuinely impressed and interested in everything he showed him despite the fact that he had visited Alexandria multiple times, already having gotten a tour from Everly herself. Carl recognized that the town was a special place; anyone who came across it would instantly know that, but it seemed so ordinary to him now.

 _I've officially assimilated_ , Carl comprehended. Alexandria didn't hold the awe and glamour for him as it did before. It was bound to happen eventually. He guessed it took a violent stranger invading his home for him to finally understand that.

They were upstairs, viewing his bedroom and then the room his father shared with Michonne, when Negan opened a door further down the hallway.

"Wait!" Carl called, but it was too late.

"Ooooooh!" Negan smiled sweetly at him from the doorway and headed inside. "Who do we have here?"

Carl rounded the door frame and into the room to see a bedraggled, grumpy Judith standing up in her crib and her fine hair astray. Negan clapped his hands together once, offering them to her and she held up her arms in permission for him to pick her up. He did so, a goofy grin on his face as he studied the toddler.

"This is your little sister, right? Jessica?" Negan asked him over his shoulder.

"Judith," Carl corrected him.

"Oooh, Judith," Negan leaned back to look the girl in the face. "Well, aren't you just the cutest fucking thing I ever did see. Yes, you are!" Negan cooed to her as he bounced her in his arms. Judith stared at the stranger who was holding her and Carl narrowed his eye at him. Neither were very amused.

"She needs to be fed," Carl said, walking forward to take his sister from a maniac's arms.

"Are you a good big brother, Carl?" Negan asked suddenly, shifting Judith to his other hip, away from her brother's reach. He didn't answer. "Little girls need good big brothers to help take care of them in a world like ours. After all, you did put a bullet in her mother's head. Who else does she have left but your dumbass dad?"

"Our father…is a good man, a great man. Something you wouldn't know shit about."

"Is that so, serial killer?" Negan got close to him, holding Judith snuggly in his arms. Carl knew better than to make a grab for her. "Did your _father_ know where you last night? Did he even know you were gone? Is he out looking for you right now or…working for me?"

The two stared at each in a heated silence. Carl's breathing hitched up in anger but Negan remained at ease, a soft smile curving his lips. Judith must've either sensed the tension or got fed up with standing around because she started to whine, scrunching her red face up and getting ready to let loose the waterworks. Negan cradled her head to his chest, swaying her back and forth as he worked to calm her down, never breaking eye contact with Carl.

"Come on, kid," he said, breaking the silence between them. "Let's get little sis a snack, and afterward, I'll show you some things about being a man."

* * *

Spencer got ready in his room, smoothing his shirt down into his slacks and gelling his hair back just right. He wanted to make an impression, a good one, because everything depended on it; his reliability, authority, legitimacy, and most importantly, his freedom. What he held dear was balanced against the odds of any possible outcome of him doing this and he wanted to make sure he got it right. This might be his only, and last, chance.

"Never let anyone down with a well pressed shirt and a smile," he told himself in the mirror and smiled widely. He fixed a few stray hairs and surveyed his meticulous appearance to make sure everything looked just right.

 _You got this, Spence. No way he could say no to you._

Spencer was taking a blind leap on going to Negan about his role in Alexandria, and if he was being honest with himself, he was kind of nervous that he would refuse him. He might laugh in his face, call him a fool, and out him in front of everyone as a traitor. They would ridicule him, shun him, or worse yet, cast him out into exile. But that was worst-case scenario. He just needed to convince Negan. Persuade him that Rick was no good as a leader and that he needed to be replaced- hopefully by him. He had the looks, the charisma, and the right. This town was his, it was his family's. And all that had happened since Rick and his group arrived was tragedy after tragedy. Spencer was ready to amend that and ensure the people of Alexandria nothing more would unfold.

That was the next problem, though. Most people seemed to like Rick, or at least be comfortable with him as a leader. Spencer had to admit that Rick had a knack for taking charge and holding onto it. He also had a knack for putting a lot of peoples' lives in danger, and not just the people of Alexandria, but his own. It wasn't necessarily his brother's or father's deaths that made him realize it. Hell, it wasn't even his mother's. It was the constant misery he had seen everyone in since Rick so "boldly" introduce himself to Negan. He told all of them that it was for their own good that they strike first, that they needed to take the enemy out before they could get to them, but look where it had gotten them. Cornered, overpowered, and controlled by one of the most organized and dangerous communities he had seen yet. It was time that changed. At least in the way of them being a victim.

 _No more_ , he thought. _We can work together, but victims we will be no more._

It was time Rick went, and if that meant breaking a few new bonds Spencer had made, so be it. What was most crucial to him at this point in time was that Rick would no longer have the opportunity to put anyone else's life in the crosshairs. He could have his fun; run with the Devil if he wanted to. But he was going to keep him, his friends, and everyone else out of it. He was going to be Alexandria's new leader. He was what they needed, what they deserved. He going to do it for the family he lost and for those who were left.

"I'm doing it for me," he spoke to his reflection and then headed out the door.

* * *

"This is some damn good lemonade. Thank you, Olivia," Negan complimented her as she stood rigidly in front of him. "And that spaghetti was on point, am I right? I'm a regular fucking Chef Boyardee."

He gave Carl a whisker free smile, rubbing his bare chin. One of the ways Negan showed him how to be a "man" was to demonstrate how to shave with a straight edge razor; fat lot of good that did Carl, though, because he couldn't grow shit in the way of facial hair. He scoffed at the man and folded his arms. They sat out on the front porch in a couple of whicker rocking chairs as if it was the most normal thing in the world. They were almost like two peas in a pod, if one pea was a raging lunatic and the other an angry, hormonal teenager surviving the worst two years of his life.

"I can just take her," Olivia suggested, holding her hands out to Judith who sat in Negan's lap. He patted the toddler's leg and bundled her closer to him.

"She's just fine where she's at. She likes Uncle Negan, right?"

He looked down at the child, smiling brightly at her as she gazed up wonderingly in return. Olivia pressed her lips together, upset with herself that she left Judith alone in the same house as this evil man, but he had flustered her so much that she had ran out without thinking. She felt like the worst babysitter in the world.

"Why don't you run along and get started on that mess inside, huh? A woman your size…" Negan paused, looking her once over and giving her a sweet smile, "I'm sure you're used to destroyed kitchens."

Olivia felt the tears start to mingle around her lashes again as she briskly turned around and headed inside.

"Oops," he said, turning to Carl with a regrettable grin on his face. "There I go again."

Carl glared at him for a second before rolling his eye and looking away. He saw Spencer, who was unusually dressed up for the day, strolling confidently down the street in their direction, a bottle of whiskey in his hands. Carl wondered what he was up to as he climbed the porch stairs, a large grin on his face.

"Afternoon, gentlemen. Thought I'd stop by and-" he lifted the bottle in his hands "-welcome our guest."

"Well, afternoon to you, friend," Negan greeted him. "Whatcha got there?"

"You look like a whiskey man. Figured you could use a nice handle. Hi, I'm Spencer," he held out his hand to Negan.

"Helloooo, Spencer," Negan returned, shaking his hand. "I certainly am a whiskey man. You've got a good eye. Carl, how about you take sis on inside. Seems like Spencer here might have a few words to share."

Negan held the girl out to him and Carl obliged all too willingly. Let Spencer sit and listen to the asshole ramble on for hours; he was over it. Carl held Judith to his chest, giving Spencer a wary eye as he headed inside.

"Why don't you take a seat, Spence? Crack open that bottle for us."

"Sure thing," Spencer laughed. He twisted the top, tearing the paper seal and uncorking the bottle. He grabbed two empty glasses from the tray Olivia had brought out with the lemonade, pouring them each a good four fingers.

"Damn, you don't fuck around," Negan commented as he took his glass, taking a sip.

"Well, I see this as a celebration," he replied and looked at Negan to gauge his reaction. What he saw was confused amusement.

"Celebration?" Negan questioned.

"Of sorts," Spencer agreed and sipped his whiskey. He took a deep breath. "I'm just happy to be here, sitting with you on this beautiful day, healthy, relaxed…secure."

Negan nodded, considering what he was saying. Then he laughed.

"I'm not quite sure what you mean, but fuck it. You're right. This day is goddamn beautiful, and I sure am healthy, relaxed, and secure. The only things missing are a pool table and cue ball to go with this fine ass whiskey."

"There's a pool table in that house over there," Spencer informed him, pointing to the house across the street.

"Damn, Spencer. I think you just might be my new best friend," Negan smiled, getting up from his chair.

Spencer felt light. This was going exactly as well as he hoped it would, if not better. He knew he could tap into Negan and tread on some common ground with him. He just needed to find a way to connect with the man and the bottle of whiskey had hit the spot.

"What do you say we get some of my guys to bring that pool table out, roadside? Might as well enjoy this glorious day while it lasts," Negan suggested as he slipped on his leather jacket.

"That sounds awesome, man," Spencer said, smiling.

Negan rounded up a few of his Saviors to fetch the pool table from the house across the street and set it up in the road. The clouds overhead cast fluctuating shadows on him and Spencer as they set up the game, the breeze soft and the air warm. It truly was an amazing day. Spencer smiled again.

"I'll let you take the first shot," he joked.

"Oh, I always take the first shot, brother," Negan said and he set the cue ball up where he wanted it.

 _Now would be the best chance_ , Spencer thought. He cleared his throat.

"Uh, well, while we play, I thought we could discuss a few things. One thing in particular I've been kind of concerned about."

"Is that so?" Negan looked up at him. He was bending over at the edge of the pool table, lining up his shot with the cue ball. "Well, say what you gotta say. I'm all ears."

His cue hit the ball, sending it into the others with a loud crack. They all scattered like exposed bugs, two finding shelter in the far side and corner pockets. Negan gave out a whistle, pleased with himself.

"Nice hit," Spencer complimented. He cleared his throat again, starting to get nervous. He thought it best to go ahead and be forthright. "I wanted to talk to you about Rick."

Negan stopped studying the balls on the table. He straightened up, eyeing Spencer closely. He grabbed the cube of chalk that sat near him and powered the end of his cue while he tried to figure out the man in front of him. He sighed.

"Alright, talk. Talk as much as you deem necessary."

Spencer swallowed and his gut clenched.

"Well, frankly, I think Rick is a bit of a loose cannon. He's barely sleeping, hardly speaks. Sometimes, I don't even see him for days on end. And most of the time when I _do_ see him, it's like he's slowly unraveling, losing his mind," Spencer took a moment for that to sink in. He continued when Negan kept playing. "I understand what you want. What you're trying to do. I can't say I'd do it the same way, but I think it's pretty noble of you to take on such a big responsibility."

Negan looked up at him at that. He had on a sideways smile and the sight encouraged Spencer to keep going.

"I don't believe Rick understands that. He's see the world through such broken lenses that everyone is the enemy to him. Even the people who he's supposed to be the leader of,." Spencer paused to take his shot and continued talking when no balls made it in. "He's a danger…to the lives and well-being of anyone he is involved with. He pretends like he's on board, like he's giving you control…but I can see him starting to crack. It's only a matter of time before he tries to do something like he did before, and I'm not going to let that happen. I can't. Not after he already went crazy once here…and certainly not after he let my family die."

Negan made another successful shot before standing up and dropping the butt of his cue down to the road. He leaned slightly on the stick as he made eye contact with Spencer, considering what he was saying. He made some fair points. Rick _had_ been looking pretty rough the last time Negan saw him, and he must be in a pretty fragile state if one of his followers was betraying him to his foe. But Negan wasn't sure he liked that.

"I see," he said slowly. He set the cue down on the table, walking over to Spencer. "What do you suggest I do about him?"

"Exile him," Spencer said frankly. "Send him back on the road, just as he came. He survived as long as he did on it, I'm sure he can do it again."

"And who do you supposed would be the new leader?" Negan titled his head. "I think I can take a good guess at who you're considering…"

Spencer smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"My mother was the initial dignitary here. I think it only natural I follow her footsteps and not some stranger."

"Oh, shit!" Negan exclaimed. "You think it's your God damned given right, don't you!"

Spencer's smile faltered a bit at that. He sensed a bit of incredulity in Negan's voice that hadn't been there earlier. Before he could say any more to get control of the conversation again, Carl and Olivia came out of the house, curious as to what the shouting was about. A few others from Rick's group also began to gather around and so did some of Negan's Saviors. Spencer started to sweat as Negan laughed.

Negan came up, leaning in close so he could speak intimately with him. He wasn't smiling anymore.

"You see, Spencer, I like the men who work for me to have guts. Right now, Rick is out there risking his _life_ to make sure he gets me what I need. He swallows all the hate and rage and he goes out there to get shit done. That takes _guts_ …Spencer." Negan poked him in the stomach and Spencer let out a soft grunt. "I'm not so damn sure that _you_ have what it takes to be a leader, never mind ever being in fucking charge of anything of mine. In fact," Negan took a step back, unsheathing a bowie knife from his side. He slammed the blade into Spencer's belly. "I don't think you've got guts at all."

Olivia cried out, covering her mouth with her hands and Carl stood flabbergasted, his mouth hanging open with horror. As they watched, blood gushed from Spencer's stomach, staining his freshly pressed button down shirt and khaki pants. He started to choke on the breath that was caught in his chest and Negan yanked the knife to the left, opening up his stomach up more to allow his intestines to spill out.

Negan jerked the knife out and Spencer fell to his knees, clutching his insides that were now lying on the pavement.

"Motherfucker, I was wrong!" Negan bent down to yell joyfully at him. "You did have guts. They were hiding inside of you the entire time! How shortsighted of me."

He winked at him and stood up, letting out a long laugh as Spencer coughed up blood and fell on his side.

Spencer stared up at the clouds as his body began to grow numb and cold, the previous warmth from the day, and the whiskey, leaving his body. He thought of his family; of how much he missed them and how stupid he felt for letting them die the way they did. He was realizing too late that Rick hadn't been the cause, nor had anyone else. Death had always been there. It was already ready for them, eager and patient, and eventually it would come for them. It would come for them all.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Rick and Aaron made their way down the deserted road, eager to get back home. They found an abundance of supplies out on their run, having to go through strenuous hurdles to get them, but it was worth it. They both were complete wiped out and Rick was looking forward to taking a hot shower, slipping into bed with Michonne, and topping his evening off with an early bedtime. By the time they turned on the road that led to Alexandria, Rick was almost drooling with anticipation, but his excited mood was quickly flattened when he saw Negan's trucked at the entrance.

"What the hell?" Aaron expressed, concerned.

"What the hell, indeed," Rick affirmed.

This was no good. Negan and his Savior had just been there the day before to pick up their weekly supplies. There was no reason for him to be back here…unless something big had happened.

Rick ran a hand down his face, sighing wearily. He didn't like the sudden surprise, and he certainly didn't want to find the stamina to deal with it eithe; but he chose to straighten up and get ready to face yet another strenuous hurdle for what felt like the hundredth time in twenty-four hours.

Aaron pulled the box truck through the gate, being sure to maneuver it in slowly as to not offend the ones who were standing around on watch. When he came to a stop, both he and Rick shared a quick look, silently encouraging each other up to open their doors and get this shit over with. They grabbed their handles and popped them open at the same time and hopped out.

"Rick," a Savior he knew by the name of Gary greeted him. Rick nodded a polite, but forced hello back. "Where've you been? Negan's been waiting for you and you know how he hates to wait."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize he would be back so soon," Rick answered.

"Well, he is," Gary gave him a sarcastic smile. "Let's hope for you and your people's sake that a sorry will fucking cut it this time."

Rick nodded again. He could easily give Gary something to be sorry for, but he restrained himself from doing what he was envisioning vividly in his mind. It wasn't an easy restraint. Gary stepped up to him then, getting in his face a bit. "Whatcha got in the truck?"

"After everyone left yesterday, we thought it would be a good time to go out and get more supplies to ensure that we were ready for your next visit," Aaron intervened, stepping up to Rick's side.

"Was anyone fucking talking to you, pansy?" Gary snarled.

"No, I just thought-" Aaron started to say.

"You thought wrong, motherfucker," Gary cut in and shoved him away.

Aaron stumbled back a few steps, landing his pleading eyes on Rick. Gary shoved him again, and Rick took a step forward to break the two apart, but a couple of other Saviors stepped forward, too, in warning.

Gary landed a solid punch against Aaron's face, sending him almost to his knees. He lashed out another successful punch again, getting him to the ground this time. He continued to punch and kick him, another Savior swinging in to give it a go, too. Rick watched on fretfully, unsure of what to do but desperately trying to think of something.

"That's enough," Gary told the second Savior as he gave Aaron another kick to the stomach. "That'll give him plenty to think about when it comes to minding his own fucking business."

Gary glared at Rick and stepped over Aaron as he groaned on the hot pavement.

"You guys got here right on time," he told Rick with a half-hearted smile that quickly changed into a sneer again. He turned away from him. "Dave, Laura, let's check this shit out."

The three of them went to the back of the box truck and started to pull out and rifle through the load. They had brought back multiple boxes of provisions and some were filled to the brim. Normally, Rick would have jumped in to help, but considering whom that help would go to he didn't even bother. He went to Aaron instead, taking one of his arms to put over his shoulder and hauling him off of the ground. Rick kept a supportive hold on him.

"Why don't you and your dickhead boyfriend run along to Negan now," Dave said, tossing a bin haphazardly to their feet.

Rick quickly shifted Aaron away, giving the three Saviors a heated look he could no longer contain. He shook his head and started in the direction of the town, not really caring or needing to stay. Not after what they did to Aaron. The two of them had already completed their part. Let these assholes figure the rest of this shit out.

"Bye, Prick! It's always good seeing you!" Rick could hear a female voice calling after them which he assumed belonged to the blonde woman named Laura.

"Fuck you, too," Rick muttered under his breath and Aaron let out a short, grunting laugh and then a moan of pain. "Take it easy," Rick cautioned him.

"They wouldn't recognize a prick if they caught themselves in the mirror," Aaron commented laboriously, giving Rick a bloody grin. He felt his cheeks rise up at that.

"They wouldn't recognize a prick if they saw one dangling between their legs," Rick added, looking at Aaron from the side of his eyes. They both laughed simultaneously; big, hearty, boisterous ones. It felt good to let something out, but not so much for Aaron. He winced and groaned, clutching his stomach.

"Oh, if only we could say shit like that to their faces," Aaron sputtered out.

"You'd just get your ass kicked again," Rick teased him.

"It'd be worth it," he grunted back.

It was then the heard a scream from deeper in the town. Rick stopped walking immediately and looked to Aaron.

"Put me down. I can make it okay by myself. Quick, go check it out."

Rick didn't hesitate as he carefully let Aaron go and took off down the street. His heart was pumping furiously with uncertainty of what he might discover. He knew it had everything to do with Negan and he wondered just how bad this time would be. As he got closer to the source of the noise, Rick saw a large group of people by his house. Some were Alexandrians, but most of them were not. He charged up to the group, pushing through to get to the middle.

He stopped immediately as he came upon the sight of Spencer dead and gutted, bleeding in the middle of the street. He noticed a pool table, too, and Negan standing there with a large knife in his hand. What the hell _was_ going on?

"Look who finally decided to show his fucking mug. It's Rick!" Negan heartily welcomed him.

"What the hell is going on here?" Rick demanded, not really able to hold back anymore.

"What, this?" Negan asked innocently and pointed to Spencer's body with his bloodied knife. "Oh, this! _This_ was me doing you a fucking favor."

"A favor of what exactly?" Rick spat out.

"Easy there, Rick. You don't know the full fucking story yet," Negan cautioned him, giving him a smile. He took a step back and bent down next to Spencer, wiping the blood from the bowie knife onto the once pristine slacks. He stood up when he was done. "This dead as fuck golden boy here wanted you gone, Rick! He came to me, buttered me up with some smooth fucking whiskey, introduced a few minutes of fun into my life… I was starting to like the jackass, but then he just had to ruin it by bringing up your sorry ass name."

"Why is he lying dead in the middle of the road?" Rick pressed.

"Shit, don't shove it in dry, Ricky boy. Let me led up to the damn thing, will ya?" Negan mocked him. "This shit for brains came over here all dressed up nice and pretty with a bottle of _your_ fine whiskey in his hands. Said he wanted to give it to me as a welcome _celebration_. A celebration of I didn't know what the fuck for until we got out here and he started in on how impulsive, careless, and uncooperative you are… Shit, he could've written the saddest fucking story in history if he wanted with all the fucked up mess he was telling me. How you let his family die and everything turned to shit once you became in charge and boo-fucking-hoo…"

Negan walked up to him, sheathing his knife in the process, but Rick's body was tense nonetheless as he stopped right next to him.

"You know what he told me?" Negan spoke softly. "He told me that we should kick you out. Exile you and send you on your merry fucking way back on the empty road. He wanted to take over, basically telling me it was his _right_. Now, I'm not sure how you feel about all of that, but I thought it was a pretty rat bastard way of dealing with an issue, sneaking over here while you were gone. In my opinion, he should've _gutted_ up and taken care of whatever problem there seemed to be himself. Instead, I had to fix it the fuck for him," Negan swiveled to look at Spencer's prone form behind him. "Maybe not quite in the way he'd hoped."

"So, you're telling me," Rick took in an angry breath, "that Spencer came to you and asked to take over? And you killed him? For that?"

Negan gave him a speculating look, knitting his brows together, "For fuck's sake, Rick, I thought you'd be goddamn grateful. Not only did I take care of that fucking catastrophe waiting to happen, I also brought back your wayward son, too."

"What?" Rick asked. He scanned the crowd for Carl and found him standing on the porch with Olivia.

"Yeah," Negan was smiling again, his voice growing louder, "your boy there snuck into one of my trucks yesterday afternoon and hitched a ride over to my place. Then, when we were minding our own fucking business and unpacking shit, he decided to hurl himself out of hiding, swinging a fucking machete around like some watered-ass down version of Blade. Sliced open one of my men's faces and slit the throat of another."

Rick whipped around to Carl again, giving him a furious glare. Carl gazed sheepishly back at him and lowered his head. Rick returned his attention back to Negan, forcing down his anger for the moment.

"I apologize for that. He's just a boy. He's-" Rick began to reason, hoping that he could say anything to make up for his son's grievous mistakes. He felt terror crawling its way through him at the thought of what Negan might do to Carl.

"Relax," Negan soothed, stopping him. "We've already made amends, don't you worry. Carl knows what he did was wrong. He feels _super_ sorry about it. Don't you, bud?" Negan called over to him with a grin. Carl's face was red and tentative as he looked at them through his hair. "See?"

Rick relaxed marginally though he knew no one was quite in the clear yet. He stood his ground.

"Regardless, I'll take care of Carl and make sure nothing like that ever happens again. Now, I think it's time you got your stuff and went."

Negan laughed and tongued the side of his mouth as he stared at Rick. He faltered a bit at the serious look Rick was giving him.

"All right, Rick. We'll get our stuff and leave," Negan shrugged lightheartedly. He beckoned for Lucille that one of his Saviors had a hold of and placed her on his shoulder. He stopped by Rick as his men started to slowly file out, leaning close to his ear. "Just so you know, Carl and I got to know each other well. He told me a _lot_ of fucked up stories about what the two of you endured. We actually became pretty good friends," he tapped Rick's arm with the back of his hand. "I'm thinkin' pretty soon, though, he might start calling _me_ daddy… Take care, Prick."

Negan gave him a wink and a smile, leaving the mess he made on the road behind.

* * *

"Carl, what the hell were you thinking?" Rick yelled. His was pacing irately in their living room, stomping back and forth while he yelled at Carl and threw his hands up in the air to punctuate his anger.

"I'm sorry!" Carl pleaded, barely able to get word in edgewise. All hell had broken lose as soon as they had close the gates behind Negan's trucks. "I was just try-"

"I could give a shit what you were trying to do! You could've gotten yourself killed!" Rick's face was red. "And look at Spencer!"

"I'm sorry," Carl apologized again, defeated.

Rick sighed and ran his hands down his face, trying to calm himself. All of the negative energy he was feeling was no good to him or the people around him he cared about. He needed to try to calm down.

"No, I'm sorry. _I'm_ sorry," Rick countered, putting his hands on his hips and taking a deep breath. "I should've kept a closer eye on you. Knew where you were at before I left… And Spencer made his own bed, that wasn't you."

Carl sniffed back the tears that had fallen, wiping his cheeks with the sleeves of his shirt. In a way he did feel responsible for Spencer's death. Any other day, his dad would've been here to deal with Negan, but no one would have guessed he'd be back the very next day. That was because of Carl, and maybe if he hadn't have snuck off then Spencer never wouldn't have had the chance to speak with Negan alone. Maybe he'd still be alive.

"It was my fault," Carl spoke numbly.

"No, it wasn't, Carl," Rick's tone was deep and serious. He went up to his son and grabbed him in a hard embrace. He whispered in his hair, "It wasn't you."

Rick pulled away and took him by the shoulders, pushing him back and bending down to look him square in the eye. He had to make sure Carl would never pull a stunt like that again. The boy was brave and he had his mother's doggedness to boot, but his determination was going to land him in a heap of trouble if he didn't control himself. Rick could practically feel the hairs on his head turning gray.

"Believe me when I say that there wasn't a thing you could've done to change what happened today… But I want you to know that if you _ever_ pull anything like that again, I will lock you up in your room until you're just as old and miserable as me. Am I clear?"

Carl nodded, feeling sorry all over again.

"There's something else I need to tell you," Carl said, feeling a little bit scared now. How would his father react to what he had talked about with Dwight? Would he believe him? Would it mean they might be in more trouble? Rick waited for him to say something, taking his hands from Carl's shoulders and stepping back. Carl decided to speak before his courage left him forever. "While I was there…at the Sanctuary…I spoke with someone. They told me they could help us…against Negan."

Rick stood there for a minute, absorbing and assessing what he just heard. He couldn't make sense of it at first and he wasn't sure he wanted to, but his expression started to become angry again once he realized what this might mean.

"His name is Dwight," Carl jumped in quickly, hoping to assuage the anger his father seemed to feel. "He gave me reasons, good reasons as to why he'd help us, and I didn't say anything to him! I didn't even really acknowledge what he was saying, but he told me things. Things about Negan that I know I shouldn't know! And he told me about other communities that might help, and he told me to tell you to speak with Jesus about it, to figure something out. And-"

"Okay, Carl, stop. Stop," Rick said, shushing his son by placing his hands on Carl's shoulders again. He gritted his teeth as he looked away, not wanting his son to see the pure rage he was feeling at the moment. "I want you to forget everything you talked about with Dwight and never mention it again."

"What?" Carl was taken aback. He knew it might freak his dad out at first, but he hadn't expected this response. This was their chance at freedom! Why wasn't he going to pursue it? Do some research, at least?

"Exactly what I said," Rick replied, looking Carl in the eye again. "I'm serious. What Dwight told you was bullshit, all of it. There's no way to get at Negan and the sooner you get that fucking notion out of your head, the better."

"But dad," Carl begged as Rick started to walk away. He had to believe him.

"Don't, Carl. This discussion is over. I don't want to hear it anymore," Rick reprimanded and headed for the front door.

He yanked it open, not really sure where he was going, but just needing to go somewhere to think and calm down. He stepped out on the front porch and before the door could slam shut behind him he heard Carl yell, "Just talk to Jesus!"

* * *

Daryl stood in his new room, taking in his surroundings. Dwight had showed it to him a few nights before when Carl had been here, but this was the first time he had actually went into it and looked around. It wasn't much in the way of space or décor, but it contained a bed, two dressers, and a small area he could use as a kitchen if the only things a kitchen had were a mini fridge and microwave. He figured it would do seeing as he wasn't going to be spending very much time in it. This wasn't his home and it would never be.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, the soft mattress sinking in with his weight. He bounced up once, testing the durability of it and decided it was going to leave him with back issues if he ever slept on it. He looked to his right and smacked the pillow at the head of the bed. A couple of feathers flew out.

 _Figures_ , he thought resentfully.

He looked at where one of the feathers had landed and picked it up. It was light and soft in his hand, little. He thought about Everly and wished he were with her now. They hadn't been able to see each other much and Daryl had a big feeling Negan was because of that. The both of them had been kept busy training in the arts of being a Savior, which Daryl realized was ninety percent taking from other people and ten percent giving back. The actions didn't fit the name. The only good they really did was keep the walker population down, but that was mostly to their benefit. Negan couldn't build and control a whole network of people if they were all the walking dead.

Daryl still felt bitter about getting Everly into this mess. Mainly, he felt responsible for all the tribulations they had endured since they first meet Negan that fateful night a few months ago. Granted, there wasn't much he could've done to change how everything transpired, but he wished there had been other options. The main one being Everly back at Alexandria and out of the hands of Negan.

Three loud raps resounded from the other side of the door, and Daryl looked up, dropping the feather to the ground. He didn't say anything, but stared at the door waiting for whoever it was to either come in or go away. He hoped they would do the latter.

"Housekeeping!" Negan's raspy voice drifted through.

Negan turned the knob, opening the door and sauntering in. He wore a smile, as always, with Dwight and his best girl, Lucille, accompanying him. Negan did a once over around the room, nodding his head in mock approval.

"Pretty nice set up you've got here," he commented. "Going for the whole dirt poor look?"

Daryl stood up from the bed, not feeling comfortable being in a position lower than them. He walked over to the wall that his small kitchen occupied and put his back to the corner, the door still open to his right. Dwight stood by the wall adjacent to the door, his arms crossed.

"Just thought I'd swing by, check up on my silent friend," Negan explained, stopping at the end of the bed. He shrugged. "I really wanted to come by and talk to you about Mark. You know, the guy whose face I burnt off?"

"I know who you're talkin' 'bout," Daryl answered.

"Shit, he speaks!" Negan's face lit up and he looked back to Dwight. Dwight smiled back at him. Negan chuckled. "Yeah, it's hard to forget the man that the mean, ol' boss tied to a chair and stuck a red hot iron to one side of his face, but I guess that was kind of the point."

Dwight twitched at the comment, clearing his throat and shuffling around. He looked down at his feet a Negan peered over at him knowingly.

"Ain't that right, D?"

Dwight nodded with a fake smile. He let it drop once Negan turned back to Daryl.

"To be more precise, I don't want to talk about Mark, but rather what I had to do to him," Negan worked his way around the bed slowly and to where Daryl stood. "You see, he fucked up, rather majorly, and while I was forced to do that atrocious thing to him, I had already forgiven him. Do you know why that is, Daryl?"

Daryl stood there, choosing the silent treatment again. Negan couldn't figuratively back him into a corner if he didn't say anything.

"Fuck, he's mute again," Negan shook his head with a sigh, but he was still smiling. "I forgave him because I'm a nice guy. I know, big fucking shocker right? But it's true. I'm a man of good fucking intent. It's just that sometimes that side of me tends to get skewed in the mess of things. And I couldn't let the pussy bitch get away with fucking one of my wives, right?"

Negan held both hands out, the one cradling Lucille raising her high in the air. He let his arms drop to his sides and turned to Dwight, pointing a thumb at him over his shoulder as he spoke to Daryl again.

"This guy, he understands because he was tied down to that chair once not too long ago. Did he ever share that story with you?" Negan furrowed his eyebrows and looked between the two of them. "No? Well, I'm open to share."

He took a step over to Daryl's bed, plopping down on it with a sigh. He set Lucille down beside him and let his arms dangle between his legs, his demeanor easygoing. He patted a free spot on the bed next to him, a large smile growing on his face.

Daryl squeezed his jaw tightly as he tried to decide what to do. He looked over to Dwight who had his head down but his eyes on him. He figured the quickest way to get them to leave would be to go along with they wanted. He reluctantly took a distant seat next to Negan.

"You see, Dwight here used to be married to Sherry who is now my wife. And I know what you're thinking, how can a man work for the person who took his smoking hot wife away from him? Well, I'll tell you how," Negan sat back and opened his arms, directing his smile to Dwight. "D, be sure to interrupt me if I get anything wrong. I think I'll remember it quite correctly, however.

"Anyway, before Sherry agreed to leave Dwight and marry me, I was engaged to her equally smoking hot sister. Tina was sick, didn't have a lot of options in the way of meds, so she compromised and consented to being my wife. Well, as you might guess, Dwight decided to make the stupidest decision of his life and packed up his ex-wife, my soon-to-be fiancée, and some stolen meds from my infirmary. Then, he took off during the night like the cowardly shit that he is to make sure it would be harder to find them. Does that happen to remind you of anything?"

A flashback of being locked in the cage flooded Daryl's senses. All of sudden, he tasted the copper tang of blood in his mouth and felt his body ache from being beating and crowded in a small space for too long. His legs still felt numb sometimes, he had been locked in there for hours and days on end. His fingers twitched as Negan smirked at him.

"To finish the story, Tina didn't make it very far, and once she was out of the picture, Dwight did the responsible thing and he came back. Even brought all the shit he'd stolen from me, too. That took some motherfucking balls, and I have to admit I respect the shit out of him for it. But with apologies come some consequences and he sure did pay for what he did to me."

Daryl made eye contact with Dwight, trying to figure out why the hell he would come back here. He had to have known what would happen to him, if not the exact specifics. And why would he bring Sherry back here and endanger her life, too? Daryl had felt somewhat sympathetic for the man, understanding he had more than himself to think about, but he would never, ever put Everly in danger by bring her back here. Negan was right when he had called Dwight a coward.

"My point being, Daryl," Negan snapped his fingers in front of his face, getting his attention back, "is I can take your mistakes and let you make up for it. It might not be in the way you'd want, but it is something… And I want to make it very clear to you that I've set the bar for fucking fuck-ups pretty fucking high. I am a forgiving man, but my threshold for bullshit isn't unlimited. What you have with Everly, well, I can't get in the middle of it unless I need to. So think about that. You can have her; she's all yours so far…but if I were you, I'd be working out a way to make sure I keep her…because one fuck up," Negan snapped his fingers again, "and she won't be yours anymore."

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Sorry Everly isn't in this one again. I didn't take into account that it might be boring. I should've spliced some different perspectives in these past two chapters (her's being one of them). And thanks to the reviewer(s) for the past few chapters. I appreciate your comments!**

 **Stay cool, y'all. Figuratively and literally because, you know, it's starting to get warm out there. Unless you're from the southern hemisphere or somewhere generally colder. Then stay warm, but also keep your cool.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

I was becoming accustomed to my new private space although it hardly ever felt truly mine. Negan had given me a small room with a bed, tiny closet, and some furniture. I sat in it now on the one item I was most thankful to have - the bed. Sure, I could've lived well enough with my cot, and privacy wasn't too hard to find here, either; I was mostly left alone before, anyway. But having personal space that no one else could intrude on (well, almost no one) was a commodity that I enjoyed having so far, and a bed with a decent mattress had been the cherry on top. I could now see why people were prone to being sucked in by Negan. When he wanted to be, he could be fairly generous. His trick, however, was that his generosity came at a price, and some were more willing to pay than others.

So far, my price hadn't been too high. I watched over the workers of the compound, made sure every task was managed and complete, and even helped where I could which was almost always. It felt odd suddenly being in charge of people I had worked beside for so long, especially Suzanne. I was more comfortable stepping in to give aid rather than telling them what needed to be done. The other Saviors didn't appreciate me for doing that, but I learned ignoring them usually solved the problem and kept me from worrying about what they thought or saw. As far as I was concerned, I wasn't doing anything wrong.

A week ago, I went on my first run. It was quick and short lived, which was rather disappointing, but the temporary freedom had been invigorating…at first. Granted, I had gone along with Dwight and a couple others, and they kept a close eye on me during that time, but not having a certain dominating presence constantly by my side was like heavy clouds finally parting to show a little sun.

The trip had felt off, though, and not because it was something new to me, but because of the atmosphere with those who I went with. It had been Dwight, Theodore, a woman named Lydia, and me. Theodore and Lydia had flirted a lot, talking to Dwight here and there with me being mostly ignored, which suited me just fine, but I kept getting this strange feeling from Dwight; like he wasn't totally there or he had something else on his mind. He would glance at me every so often, giving me these long, lingering looks that made me feel uncomfortable, and I tried to figure him out, see where his head was at. It wasn't until that one and only night we had settled down to get some rest that I found out what was on his mind. And I'm still not sure I should believe what he said.

 _Dwight and I were sitting around a small campfire, warming our hands as Theodore and Lydia made themselves more comfortable in one of the two tents set up. She and I were supposed to share one of them, but that idea had apparently flown out of the window when Theodore decided to shove his tongue down her throat. Gross._

 _I'd had a weird feeling all day since hitting the road with the three of them. Dwight, who was sarcastically abrasive and prone to long sullen silences, seemed less contemptuous today and more apathetic. Any conversation Theodore or Lydia tried to start with him had been met with short responses or random half-hearted laughs. I wondered what was up with him. I looked at him across the fire, trying to gauge what he was thinking before I spoke out loud. I had been mostly quiet on this trip so far, and I didn't want to draw negative attention to myself, but I was too curious to stay quiet._

 _"Are you okay, Dwight?" I asked. "You don't seem like yourself."_

 _He looked up at me, slightly startled and then let out a snort. "How would you know what my typical self is like?"_

 _There's the Dwight I knew._

 _"Well," I started, "typically, you aren't this quiet or indifferent. Figured something might be up, but I guess I should've just minded my own business."_

 _I took a drink of water from the flask I had brought and closed the top. I was ready for bed._

 _"Wait," Dwight called as I started to stand up. I slowly sat back down, crossing my arms and bringing my knees up to my chest to keep in the warmth. I cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm sorry. I know you were just…," he gave me that doleful look again, "trying to help or whatever."_

 _"Or whatever," I agreed. I was in a bad mood now._

 _"Listen, I've just got a lot of shit on my mind." He picked up a stick and started poking at the fire. We both watched the flames flicker as tiny bits of flaming ash floated in the air._

 _"About Sherry?" I prodded. Dwight caught my eye again, but his expression didn't look impassive anymore. It looked a bit annoyed._

Way to go, Everly _._

 _"She's part of it, yeah," Dwight answered to my surprise. He shoved the stick into the fire with quick flick of his wrist and held my gaze again, not letting it go. "What I'm thinking, though, mostly has to do with you."_

 _"Wh-what?" I was confused. "What do you mean?"_

 _Dwight smiled then. A small, sad smile that was uncharacteristic of him. I began to feel scared, and I straightened up my posture._

 _"You're a walking fucking failure staring me straight in the face every time I look at you." His answer astounded me._

 _I relaxed again, not really sure how to take his reply. My wonderment must've been obvious because he went on. "I don't like you. I think you know that. Shit, I'm sure pretty much everyone knows that…but do you know why? Have you ever wondered about that?"_

 _"Sure, I guess," I swallowed. Dwight's dislike for me was nothing new, just as he claimed. I had known the first time I'd ever laid eyes on him. "And there's no need to wonder why. I think the reason is pretty obvious."_

 _"Is it, though?" He countered. He brought his knees up to hook his arms around them, and leaned forward, the fire further illuminating his damaged face. "What valid reason would I have for disliking you? You've never done anything to me, at least nothing long-lasting. I think we've both said hurtful things to each other… And all those people you guys killed… I didn't give a shit about them."_

 _"Alright," I said. I wanted to argue that I hadn't killed anyone at all, but making that point would've been wasted breath. He'd already said he didn't care. "Then why do you hate me?"_

 _"I don't hate you, Everly," Dwight sighed, looking down at the flames again. "Although it certainly does feel like it sometimes. You're stubborn, you say what's on your mind whether it's necessary or not, and you're honest; maybe too honest. You call out shit for the way it is and while I would've really admired someone like you before… I don't so much now."_

 _"I can see how that makes sense. Negan doesn't really let anyone around him have original thoughts. At least, not out loud," I sympathized with him._

 _"Fuck Negan," Dwight snapped._

 _His reply had me a bit startled and I twisted to look behind me at the tent Theodore and Lydia occupied. When I heard their soft voices still murmuring to one another, I knew they hadn't heard Dwight's outburst. I turned back to him to give him an indignant look._

 _"How stupid are you?" I demanded. I really wanted to know._

 _"About as stupid as you," he countered, but the bashful look on his face let me know he wouldn't make the same mistake again. "Listen, it isn't what Negan thinks that I give a shit about. He can do whatever the hell he wants to me or anyone else. I couldn't care less. It's Sherry. It's always been Sherry. And as soon as he chose you to take back with us, I knew it would be the same fucking thing all over again. I'd be watching exactly what happened to me and her unfold right before my eyes like some sick, twisted playback."_

 _"Wh-How?" The perplexity I had been feeling throughout this entire conversation was intensifying. What did I have to do with his and Sherry's relationship? How was I connected to that in any way at all?_

 _"Because I knew he wasn't taking you back as some sort of leverage even though the excuse fit just as well as any other. He did it simply because he wanted to, because he liked the way you looked and what you could offer him; the position of being another one of his wives. And I was helpless to do anything about it. It was like seeing Sherry being taken away for a second time and just standing by to let it happen."_

 _"Why did you let it happen?" I ventured after a beat._

 _Dwight didn't stir at first. He stared into the fire, watching it swirl and flick in the night air. I thought maybe I had lost him and resigned myself to never knowing the answer to my question because, honestly, this sort of heart-to-heart was never going to happen again, but then his eyes caught mine._

 _"What choice did I have?" His whispers were just audible enough for me to catch. I put my legs down so I could lean forward to hear him better. "I tried to take her away. We got far, and they gave up looking soon enough…but we had to go back. I had to take her back because her life was more important than mine. And I'd already let her lose what she fought so hard to keep… She did it on her own, became Negan's wife. She did it to save me and I was too much of a coward to tell her no."_

 _"I have a feeling she wouldn't have let you."_

 _"No," he smiled then, shaking his head. Then slowly, the smile faded. "She wouldn't have."_

 _"I'm really sorry for what happened to you," I said after an extended hesitation._

 _"There isn't anything to be sorry about," Dwight replied. "I took my punishment and I paid the price for my mistakes, saving Sherry in the process. I'd do it the same way if I had the chance to do it over again."_

 _His words reminded me of Negan's after our intimate conversation. He told me he would have done everything the same way if he had to; killing my friends, taking me and Daryl, torturing us, securing his empire… To him, he never made any mistakes. I was looking forward to the day when he would catch on that he might've made too many and it was too late to do anything about it. I hoped I was part of that realization._

 _"Do you ever…?" I started to ask, not quite sure how I wanted to phrase my question. "I mean, do you ever think about…being different? Finding another way to live or…get out?"_

 _"All the time," his statement was short and to the point, no embellishments needed. With that simple answer, Dwight had pretty much just told me that there was no way out; for him and certainly not for me or anyone else. He and his ex-wife had both gotten close enough to Negan and he_ had _made it out once before. I figured he would know better than anyone._

 _"Well, that's a fucking buzz kill," I responded and sighed. The whole secret ops mission Daryl and I had planned with Rick seemed frivolous now. Rick had been right; there wasn't a damn thing we could do and maybe not ever._

 _"I heard most of the conversation you had with Rick and Daryl in that office. Enough to surmise what the point of it was," Dwight spoke up suddenly._

 _I knew my eyes were wide and I felt frozen on the spot. I became acutely aware of my surroundings almost instantaneously: the wind blowing through the trees, the snap and crunch of twigs and leaves which sounded suspiciously like approaching footsteps, the sudden quiet from the tent behind my back, the stillness of the creatures around our campsite…_

 _"Relax," I heard Dwight's voice break through the terror laden fog that had clouded my mind. "To be honest, I didn't want to mention anything to you about this because I didn't think you'd trust or believe me…but the night Carl was there I told him I could do something to help."_

 _"Help us with what?" My lips felt numb._

 _"Getting away from Negan," he whispered. He quickly glanced at the tent behind me before getting up and relocating to sit by my side. He lowered his voice further. "I know of other communities that are tired of being beaten down and dragged through the mud by Negan. I know one in particular that has numbers and may be willing to join any resistance that might form. I can be the initiator. I can speak with their leader; work out if this is something tangible that can happen. And I can also provide any intel to Rick, no worries on your end."_

 _"I think you need to get away from me," I sputtered out and sprang up from my spot, zigzagging to the truck so I could lock myself inside. My shaking hand gripped the handle as Dwight's slammed against the window, blocking my way inside._

 _"I know what this seems like and I get that it's nearly impossible for you to trust a damn word that I speak, but I need you to know that this is not a trick. Negan is not involved, and if he was, I'd already be fucking dead."_

 _"Move your hand from the door," I demanded, uncertain._

 _"No, not until you hear me out. Then I'll let you sleep on it and decide if you think I'm telling the truth."_

 _I looked up at him, afraid that if I agreed I would suddenly be illuminated by headlights and I would be in the clearing all over again, except this time, it would be my head Lucille would caress. I was so petrified, I could almost hear Negan's whistle echoing through the woods, and it was so clear that I wasn't sure if it actually was real or just my imagination. I felt the tears forming in my eyes._

 _"The Kingdom," Dwight revealed, ignoring my distress. "I know the leader, Ezekiel, well. Well enough to know that his patience is running thin with Negan. If I can get him and another large community, Hilltop, to agree to start a mutiny, I know others will follow; namely yours. From there, even more will join. It'll be a snowball effect until Negan won't know what the fuck hit him."_

 _"Move your hand, Dwight," I requested again, my voice no more than a whimper._

 _"I know there's a lot to gamble on, but I've been tracking this shit for months. This can work if we play it smart and quick. There's even a few of us on the inside who-"_

" _Move your fucking hand, Dwight!" I screamed at him. I didn't care who heard, even the walkers. I'd almost welcome that over any other prospect at the moment._

 _Dwight's face hardened and he pressed his lips together as he slowly removed his hand from the window. I yanked the door open, scrambling inside and closing it behind me. I latched all the locks before finding my way to the backseat to lie down, feeling trapped and scared. I lay wide awake all night._

Remembering it still sent chills up my spine; almost more than recalling anything else that had happened to me in this place. It had to be a front of some kind. Negan definitely knew all about the conversation between Daryl, Rick, and I. The whole idea of having such a compromising exchange so close to the enemy was a stupid mistake to begin with. I had a terribly bad feeling about it then and it was evident now that my intuition had been screaming at me to pay attention to that feeling. But what could I do now? And how had Carl responded to Dwight when he supposedly spoke to him about wanting to "help"?

A soft knocking at my door had me jumping to my feet, but my heartbeat slowed a tad when I realized that less than a handful of people here would ever knock on my door like that. I crossed the tiny room and opened it a crack to see Daryl standing on the other side.

"You're back!" I beamed at him, throwing open the door all the way to envelop him in a hug. His arms wrapped around my middle as we held each other for a few moments.

It was always a bit scary to think of him out on a run. Not necessarily because he was out in the world where things could be most dangerous and was prone to run into any type of persons, but because of who he was with. I didn't trust any of these people here. Not all of them, anyway, and it became worrisome when Daryl was forced to go out alone with them. Since he'd taken on the job, I was always afraid he'd come back seriously hurt or not at all.

"I'm here," he replied with a smile. "And I've missed ya."

He started to lean down, but I pushed away from him awkwardly and pretended like I hadn't noticed. I considered telling him about my discussion with Dwight, but it didn't feel like the appropriate time. And Negan hadn't approached me so far… I needed to think on it more before I mentioned anything and dragged him into it. I walked over to the small fridge I had and pulled it open, taking out two sodas.

"Would you like some? I bet you're dying for one," I commented as I sat casually on my bed, trying hard not to meet his eyes.

"Nah, I'm okay," he replied reluctantly. He was still standing in the doorway with his hands at his sides and a defeated look on his face. I was cringing hard on the inside as I placed the sodas on the nightstand by my bed.

"So…you wanna come in or…?"

"I'm thinkin' maybe I should go," Daryl flicked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Okay… Well, come see me later." I nodded and he started to turn away but he stopped and let out a sigh. He turned back around to walk into my room and slammed the door behind him. "Daryl?"

He stomped up to me, his mouth a hard line of determination. As I started to get up from the bed, he put both hands on my hips to pull me up against him and his mouth claimed mine before I could take another breath. Just like the first kiss I had with him, he was passionate and rough, but there was just enough gentleness to it to set the fire off in my belly. I clutched his upper arms hard, pushing myself closer to him as his hands ran over me. I felt the bed touch the back of my legs and I put a hand out to catch myself as Daryl pushed his body down on top of mine. His lips never once left mine.

I parted my legs and brought my knees up, letting him settle in closer to me. I wanted him badly and my hands found their way to the skin of his waist as they went under his shirt. A deep moan escaped him as his hips pressed harder against mine and not a second later one of his hands found its way under my shirt, too.

"Daryl," I gasped, finally breaking away from him. I wanted it to go on; nearly needing it to for the sake of my sanity, but I couldn't no matter how unfair it was to the both of us.

I said his name again, more firmly this time, when he continued to kiss me, leaving a white, hot trail down my neck. He lifted himself up a bit to meet my gaze and his eagerness quickly left him as he saw my expression.

"I can't," I whispered.

Unenthusiastically, he pushed himself up from the bed, and I sat up, hugging my arms to my chest.

"Why?" Daryl demanded. He was twitching with frustration, his anger growing.

I didn't know how to answer him. I didn't want to tell him that I was scared. He would dismiss me as soon as the words left my mouth because he didn't care about Negan or the things he could do like I did. I had thought about Glenn and Maggie so much since his death, how she was a pregnant widow left alone to raise a child in what was left of this broken world. I thought about Sherry, Amber, and all of the other women who were Negan's wives. What were their stories and who had they loved before him? I thought about the one love I'd had in my life before; how vibrantly it started and how painfully it ended.

And I also thought about Mason. The one person I would've given my own life for above anyone else in this world, and how miserably I had failed him. The loss, the regret, the misery; it was all still too raw, the wound too fresh. A crushing weight dropped in my stomach at the possibility of pointlessly losing someone I loved again. It was terrifying. I didn't want to have happiness if it was just going to be stolen from me and extinguished in front of my face. I wouldn't survive it.

The only way to make sure it never happened again was to piss away all the opportunities I had to have it.

"I'm sorry, Daryl," I said, tears burning my eyes. "I just can't."

"Is it because of him?" He demanded. His anger was a fully burning house now.

"No," I whispered.

"You want to fuck him? Not me?"

"No!" I yelled, astonished.

"You wanna be one of his wives? Prance around in a little fuckin' dress hiked up to your ass all damn day?" Daryl's voice was rising to win over mine.

"Stop it," I protested through gritted teeth.

"Alright, Everly. When he gets tired of stickin' his dick in ya, don't come cryin' to me 'cause I ain't one for sloppy seconds."

A stinging spread throughout my hand as it hit the side of Daryl's face. The sound of the slap was an explosion in the room and it brought everything to a halt. I did it without a thought, the hurt I was feeling inside too great to render any coherent reasoning, but remorse was a quick shot to the heart, reviving my senses.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, horrified.

Daryl was already out of the door, slamming it so hard the walls shook. I sank back down to the bed and cried.

* * *

Arat was making her way through the halls at a quick pace. She had just gotten done freshening up after arriving back from a run she and six others had gone on. Normally, she'd be passed out in her room, especially since this expedition had been a particularly long one, but she had a date with a bottle of beer, some freshly picked veggies, and a few of her friends; maybe even a few hands of poker.

A loud bang got her attention and she stopped in her tracks, bending her neck in the direction of the noise. She retraced her steps and rounded a corner into hard chest.

"Hey, watch it, fuck face!" She yelled, putting her hands up defensively.

She saw a shamed faced Daryl who didn't say a word to her, which was typical as the past two weeks with him had proved. He shoved past her again to storm down the hallway. She watched his retreating back, wondering what in the hell his problem was and fighting the urge to catch up with him so she could shove his head through the wall. She looked back in the direction he'd come and realized Everly's room was nearby. Those two being closer than a set of conjoined twins, she could only assume some hell had fallen on their paradise. So, she went forward, intent on finding out what had happened. It would be easier to get information out of the girl than Daryl, anyway. She was more prone to talking after a few good smacks, or just in general.

Arat found the right door and walked up to it with a raised fist ready to bang on it when she heard the crying. Not just crying, though, but full on guttural sobs. Whatever did happened just now, it was nothing good, and Arat thought this might be the perfect time for Negan to know. Her fist dropped to her side as she backed away from the door and went for the stairwell. She was about to earn a hell of a lot more points to gamble with in her poker game.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Well, what a mess. Seems like Daryl's insecurities are getting the best of him...and so are Everly's. Wonder how this will turn out? Hmm... Thoughts?**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

He kissed her neck, running a hand up her concave belly to grab a breast as she shuddered underneath his touch. He thought her heavy breathing and shaking limbs were due to how good he was making her feel, but when she let out a whimper he knew it was because of something else. He stopped, lifting his head up to look down at her. Her face was red and worried as she blinked wet, remorseful eyes up at him.

"I'm sorry, Negan," Amber's voice shook. "It's just…I'm…"

Negan let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face. He was pressed against her, the hard length of him pulsating against the side of her thigh, dying for friction.

"It's fine, Amber," he replied in annoyance.

"Negan, really, I'm sorry," she begged. "Listen, just do it. I'm okay."

She grabbed his hips to pull him against her and opened her thighs. He obliged, thinking more with his cock than his heart, but as he started to enter her a fresh stream of tears rolled down her face and he lost it instantly. He pushed off of her.

"Just go," he growled out.

"I'm so sorry," she cried and rolled off of the bed to gather her clothes. "I'll get someone else. I'm sorry."

She ran out of the room with her clothing clutched to her naked front, the door clicking shut loudly behind her. Negan clutched the pillow under his head and squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a frustrated groan. He was stressed and he needed some release, and if he couldn't fuck one of his wives, then he would fuck up someone with Lucille. His people had been minding their Ps and Qs extra hard this month and killing someone who didn't deserve it wouldn't quite suit his needs or Lucille's. They were still a bit on edge after the last performance he put on with Mark, and he didn't want to bring morale down any further by feeding his dirty girl too soon. He would need to go out and find the next victim elsewhere.

He began to grow impatient as he waited for one of his wives to show up. They were all probably out there comforting Amber while she cried and moaned over her half-cooked asshole ex. He didn't know what the fuck any of them expected. The arrangements they made with him had come with strict rules that they were aware of and had agreed to. Amber had known what she was doing, just as Mark had, and he paid for their mistake dearly. They could only blame themselves, but it was Negan who was the heartless bastard in their minds. That didn't bother him as much as it pissed him the fuck off. Being responsible sometimes meant pissing people the fuck off - even more so when you had to maim the holy fuck out of them - but how else would they learn?

Everly's face appeared in his mind, her green eyes steadfast and her soft mouth set in a rebellious frown. She was another one who had a hard time accepting the rules and following them. She showed him time and time again just how stubborn she could be, and while it was one of the most aggravating things about her, it was also the most appealing. It excited him. He was used to people complying almost instantly and if it wasn't exactly instantly, it didn't take long for them to give in. He was even better with women to which he had his good looks to thank for. It was easy to be vulgar and hostile when he could turn on the charm just as quickly with a simple smile. That's how he got away with most of the shit he pulled before the world spiraled into chaos and the dead took over. Now he just used it as a means of demonstrating his control.

She was different, though. He knew he affected her in some way, that was plain for him to see, but she didn't let it get to her. She kept her distance and shielded herself from his advancements. He didn't quite want her to be another wife. He had enough of those already and it seemed like the ones he had were hanging onto him with loose but sticky fingers. They might resist at first, but he could shake them off when he wanted. No, he didn't want the mundane bullshit that came with being one of his wives. He just wanted to fuck her, be inside of her and feel her heat underneath him when he wanted. Sometimes he wished he hadn't been such a hard-ass to her, treated her a bit more delicately like he did with the others. Maybe she'd be more open and willing with him, but she had needed the punishments. They were tough lessons, but she had gotten the hint rather quickly thereafter.

He wondered about Simon's comment to her before their first meeting. He had joked with her about being a virgin and she had lit up like a bright red balloon. He wasn't exactly into that sort of thing, but he could imagine the fun he would have with her if she was. Show her what it was like to be properly fucked; have her squirm and yield underneath him as she panted and moaned his name. His hand reached down to grip himself as he pictured it and sweat began to pop up on the sides of his temples. His bedroom door opened.

"Get the fuck over here," his half-lidded eyes found Sherry in the doorway.

She closed the door and quickly walked over to the bed, stripping as she went. She stopped to let her underwear pool to the floor before climbing on the silk sheets next to him. He grabbed her by the hips and she straddled him, her opening hovering just above him. He pushed her down and he felt her heat as she settled on top of him, covering him completely.

He let out a moan as she rode him, his fingertips digging deeply into her sides. He bucked up into her as she came down and she let out a soft sigh, grabbing onto the bed frame in front of her for support. He wasn't far from what he needed. He was just a bit disappointed it was coming so soon, but he had kind of set himself up for that.

Sherry noticed his urgency and knew he wasn't far from release. She picked up the pace, enjoying the moment, too, but she wasn't quite where she needed to be to get off. It wasn't often that she did, either. If she ever did, guilt would eat at her for days and seeing Dwight around the Sanctuary made it much worse. She rarely found a moment of pleasure worth all of that pain.

Negan tensed up beneath her as he let out a long, deep grunt; the image of a certain redhead on top instead helping him to ride out the waves of his release. His rough hands held Sherry in place as he finished, and he let out a long breath as he relaxed into the bed, his chest gleaming with sweat as it rose up and down.

"Sweet holy fucking fuck, I needed that badly," he rasped, not feeling an ounce of guilt for thinking about another woman while he fucked one of his wives.

"Glad I could be of service," Sherry sarcastically replied, slipping off of him.

"Cool it with the attitude," he shot back, annoyed. "You're gonna ruin the afterglow, baby."

"Yeah, _your_ afterglow," she lay down next to him with an arm above her head.

"Oh, right," he smirked. "Sorry about that. I nearly nutted on my own before you showed up. You want me to…?"

Negan pointed to her closed legs and she shook her head; she really didn't care that she didn't get off, too. She just liked giving him shit for it.

"I'm good, don't worry. Women aren't necessarily like men in that sense," she said.

"Yeah, I'm quite fucking aware," Negan sat up to roll over her and off of the bed. "But you can't say that I've never been willing to make you come when you wanted me to."

"Don't be crude," she squinted at him.

"Me?" Negan put a hand to his chest and scoffed. "When the hell am I ever?"

He gave her a wink as he crossed the room to the bath. She watched him go and couldn't help but admire what she saw. He was a cruel and selfish man, nearly taking everything away from her, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the small redeeming qualities he possessed; his firm backside being one of them.

She sat up and ran a hand through her hair as she watched him start his shower. She figured she should do the same, but she was comfortable where she was at. She could feel still feel him inside her and she wondered if this time would take. Doubt was a hasty slap to the face as she'd had unprotected sex with Negan numerous times and it had concluded nothing as of yet. Sherry wasn't particularly intent on getting pregnant by him, but the thought of a child filled her with so much longing. It was something she hoped could ease the constant ache in her heart if it ever did happen.

After his shower, he came back in the room and handed her a towel, a satisfied smile dimpling his cheeks. "Your turn, dear. Go clean yourself up."

She took the towel and did as she was told. When she entered the bedroom again, Negan was dressed in a clean, soft gray t-shirt and jeans. He was lounging on one of his sofas with a drink in hand. She went past him to the bed and picked up her scattered clothes off of the floor to put them back on.

"Hey," he called out to her softly. She looked over at him as she zipped herself up to see him staring at her and he crooked a finger. She walked to him, forcing a tiny smile on her face as he stood up.

"Yes?" She asked as he slid arms around her waist, hugging her to his chest.

"Thank you for tagging in. Amber's still having a tough fucking time, apparently," he said and she grimaced inwardly.

"You're welcome, and yes, she is." She tried hard not to sound bitter.

"Talk her out of it, please. I don't want a repeat of tonight. Not that you didn't fully make up for it."

"I'll do that." Her smile was tight.

Negan returned her smile and leaned down to kiss her, invading her mouth with his tongue. He pulled away and kept his eyes cast down on her face for a few seconds. She was starting to feel uncomfortable when he let her go and she took a step back, waiting for his dismissal.

"You can go. Get some rest," he finally said, placing his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

She turned and walked to the door, her heart thumping in her chest angrily. She reached for the knob and started to turn it when an unexpected knock at the door had her almost jumping out of her skin. She took a deep breath and grabbed the handle again, opening the door to reveal Arat, one of Negan's more hardcore followers.

"I need to speak to Negan," she demanded.

"I'm here, Arat. Come in," Negan replied for Sherry. Sherry stepped aside as Arat rushed in.

"I have some information you might find useful," Arat spoke quickly. "It's about Daryl and that redhead, Everly."

 _Oh, shit_ , Sherry thought. She wondered what was going on and hoped it wasn't anything that was going to get them into trouble again.

Negan grabbed his whiskey off of the coffee table and gestured for Arat to go on.

"They had some sort of fight. I'm not sure about what, but he left her room angry as hell and she's in there wailing like a drowning cow."

"This happened just now?" Negan asked after he took a sip from his glass.

"Yes. I rushed up here after that hick asshole nearly knocked me down. I should've kicked his sorry ass for that." Arat grew angry again at the thought.

"No, you did the right thing," Negan praised her. "Thank you for letting me know."

"Anything for you, Negan," Arat replied in thanks of her own and Sherry rolled her eyes.

Negan dismissed her and she walked past Sherry and out of the door just as quickly as she had entered it, barely giving the wife a sideways glance. Sherry knew Arat wished to be one of them, but she wasn't Negan's type. Being a loyal minion was the best she was ever going to get.

"What're you going to do?" Sherry asked him.

Negan finished his drink and placed his glass on the coffee table. He'd had a sinister smile on his face the moment Arat spoke Everly's name. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't worry yourself about it."

"Please leave them alone," she begged. "This has nothing to do with you."

"You think so?" Negan cocked an eyebrow at her, his smile flattening. "It's not any of _your_ fucking business what I do here or who I do it with. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Negan. I'm sorry," she complied, her mouth turning down at the corners. She crossed her arms and took the tense moment as her signal to leave, turning her back on Negan to face the open door. His voice calling her name again stopped her from stepping over the threshold, and she looked over her shoulder to meet his gaze.

"Next time," he said, his voice reasonable and calm, "try to sound a little bit more fucking sincere when you apologize to me. You know your options; I'm not forcing you to be with me. So whether or not you're faking all of this shit, do a better job at convincing me you want it. Otherwise, you can fuck off."

She nodded and looked at the floor, hurt. "I don't mean to act like I don't care. And I wasn't trying to pry into your personal business. I love you."

"I know you do," he nodded with a small smile. "Leave."

And without another word, she did. Sherry made her way out of his room in to the dimly lit hallway, closing his door behind her. She hurried down the hall, her heels echoing noisily through the corridors. She felt sick suddenly and she wanted to cry.

 _This isn't how my life was supposed to be_ , her innermost self repined. _You were so much more than this. You had so much more._

She wondered if she should go to Daryl and Everly to warn them about what Negan knew, but in the end, she decided it wasn't her any of business after all. She already felt like she was treading on thin ice with Negan, and, really, she had no idea what his plan might be. They had done nothing against him. The only thing he would do was maybe give them a hard time about their fight or he might try to convince Everly to be his new wife… For the time being, though, she was going to keep her mouth shut until an issue arose. She trusted Everly's judgment enough to think she could make wise decisions on her own. And at this point, Sherry wasn't sure if any help she offered would make the problem better and not worse. Besides, she had more important things to worry about and all of them included Dwight.

* * *

"Alright, once we finish folding these, we'll be done," I told Suzanne and the two women who were with us. We were folding laundry and putting them in their proper boxes so that they could distribute them later.

"Thanks for your help, Everly. You really didn't need to," Suzanne said.

"Yeah, thanks. It's pretty cool of you," Sarah agreed. Her blonde hair was falling out of her ponytail as she bent over the table.

"Oh, please," Bobbie rolled her eyes, but she held a warm smile. She was an older woman with tan skin and gray streaks in her rich brown hair. "Everly here might be a higher-up now, but she'll always be one of us. Ain't that right?"

"It's the truth. I can't deny it," I smiled at Bobbie. "It doesn't feel right telling you guys what to do. It was only a few weeks ago I was being bossed around right along with you."

"If not worse," Bobbie added. There was a murmur of agreement as we concentrated on the large pile of clothes before us.

"Speaking of, how's your friend Daryl?" Suzanne asked.

I faltered in my process, dropping the shirt that had been in my hands at the unexpected mention of his name. I picked the shirt back up and resumed folding, not sure how much I wanted to say. I hadn't seen or spoken to Daryl since our fight a few days ago, and I frankly had no idea how he was doing. I shrugged my shoulders.

"Okay, I suppose."

"You don't know?" Sarah asked, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

"I…haven't really seen him lately," I responded truthfully.

"Uh, oh." Bobbie gave me a sympathetic look. "Any reason for that?"

"Ummm," I sighed. They were all looking at me expectantly, the clothes half forgotten in their hands. "We had a fight."

"What about?" Sarah leaned over the table, the garments temporarily forgotten. She seemed eager to hear the story.

"Sarah," Suzanne admonished her in a grandmotherly tone.

"Oh, please! I'm so bored! This place is so _boring_. Please, Everly! Maybe I can give you some good advice," Sarah was bouncing on her toes, the piece of clothing she had been folding now clutched to her chest. Bobbie was rolling her eyes again.

"Okay, well," I hyped myself up to tell the story. "He came to see me in my room when he got back from his last run, and I was really happy to see him and him me."

"Uh huh, yeeeaaah." Sarah flapped her hand at me to go on. "Keep going."

"He tried to kiss me and…I blocked it," I admitted, not looking at their faces. A resounding 'Oooh' circled the table. "I asked if he wanted a soda. He declined and said he should probably go. I told him to come back later, and when he turned to leave, he stopped and…"

I was embarrassed about the next part. I didn't want to divulge the intimate details of my time with Daryl to others, even if they were my friends. It made me feel awkward.

"Oh, look. Her face is turning red," Bobbie snickered, but it wasn't mean.

"Everly!" Sarah persisted.

"You guys, she's clearly uncomfortable. Give her a moment." Suzanne's attempt to spare me was much appreciated.

Sarah leaned heavily on the table and leveled her eyes with mine. She cocked an eyebrow at me after a second of staring.

"Fine!" I let out. "He came back in and he kissed me. Just full on grabbed me off the bed and…started trying to suck the life force out of me."

Sarah laughed out loud.

"In a good way!" I added once I realized what my last comment sounded like. I was so bad at this.

"Oh, I bet," Sarah snorted, getting herself together.

"Was that it?" Bobbie pried. She was still folding the clothes, but the majority of her attention was on me. I realized none of them had anyone special in their lives. Not that I knew of, anyway. My story was more than just a way for them to pass the time.

"Not exactly," I mumbled with a small smile. Sarah threw a t-shirt at me.

"Tell us! All this talk about him sucking the life force out of you has got me picturing some freaky shit. I gotta know the rest. I gotta know what else he was sucking on, too."

"Sarah!" Suzanne exclamation was mingled with Bobbie's exasperation of, "Dear, Lord."

"What?" Sarah shrugged her shoulders innocently, but then gave us all a wicked smile.

"Things got more heated. There was some groping and grabbing, not as much sucking," I gave Sarah a pointed look before indulging her with a small smile. "And then I got freaked out and pushed him away."

I said the last part quickly, hoping they wouldn't really catch what I said. I threw the last article of folded clothing from my pile into the box beside me, wanting to leave the story at that. I was about to pick up the box and walk out of the room to handle passing them out myself when they stopped me.

"What!" Sarah threw her hands up in the air incredulously.

"Now, she has her reasons," Suzanne interjected. "If you're so concerned about what happens in other people's bedrooms, I suggest you find more things to fill your day."

"I wouldn't be so concerned with what happened in other people's bedrooms if I had my own, and trust me, I'd love nothing more than to find things to _fill_ my day with, but the pickings here are slim if you guys know what I mean."

"What about Zack?" I asked her. "I thought you liked him? Or he liked you. Whatever."

"Yeah, I liked him for the first 30 seconds, but he went limp after that."

"Cheese and rice, Sarah, stop!" Bobbie scolded her half-heartedly and it was my turn to laugh.

"All I'm saying is if I had a man alone in my bedroom that clearly wanted me, with all this sucking and groping going on, I wouldn't be pushing him away," Sarah put her hands up apologetically.

"Yeah, I think we can all surmise what you would've done," Suzanne gave her a fed up look.

"No shame." Sarah gave Suzanne a big closed-mouth smile and a wink.

"So, I take it your friend Daryl got mad at you because you wouldn't have sex with him? Typical man, the jerk." Bobbie tossed the neatly folded clothes into the box beside her which made them not so neat anymore.

"Well…I don't think that was quite it," I pondered.

"Did the fight happen right after you pushed him away?" Bobbie asked.

"Yeah, but-" I began.

"No 'buts'. He's an asshole, and you're better off. I say forget about him and find someone else to go after," Bobbie concluded.

"Hey, now, you're just making assumptions. For all we know, the fight could've been about something completely different," Sarah added in. "Maybe he was just so excited to see Everly after being gone for so long and he was really disappointed. Or maybe he thought she's got someone else since he _was_ gone for so long."

They all looked at me and I shook my head. "No! Not at all."

"So, there you go. He's an asshole," Bobbie concluded again as she turned to Sarah.

"Oh, my God! He's not an asshole, he's just lonely and horny. I know you're all mummified and dusty down there, but have some sense!" Sarah exclaimed. Suzanne and I exchanged shocked looks.

"Hey!" Bobbie yelled defensively, a hand on her hip. "I'm not mummified and dusty down there. The creek might be drying up a bit, but it's still flowin', honey!"

"Then why're you trying to cock block, Everly?" Sarah countered and she turned to me. "Listen, here's my expert advice: you need to go to Daryl, tell him your sorry for whatever it was you two fought about, then you need to rip his pants off and ride that cock until your legs give out-" Suzanne and Bobbie let out a simultaneous groans of disgust, "-because if you don't, a part of me will die a slow and agonizing death, and it'll all be because you didn't have sex."

"Psh, some expert advice," Bobbie mumbled. "Put out the fire in your own damn pants before you spread it with that horrible nonsense you just spouted."

"What! That's sound advice!" Sarah and Bobbie started arguing back and forth about if I should forgive Daryl or not. The fashion in which I should or shouldn't forgive him became more detailed and graphic, so I was grateful when Suzanne got my attention and distracted me with what she thought I should do.

"I think that if you really care about this man, you should give it some time. Let each other cool down a bit, and while you put yourself on the backburner, think about what you want also. Remember, you don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, and that includes being with a man you don't want."

"I know," I told her with a smile. "I'll try that. Thank you, Suzanne."

"Anytime, dear." She smiled sweetly back at me, a warm glow spreading through her cheeks.

"I think I'm gonna go before I become the target again," I gestured to the two women who were still bickering with each other. At that point, Sarah was only being vulgar to piss Bobbie off, so Suzanne nodded her head and shooed me on, saying they would handle the rest of what was left. I was happy to leave the table, and I set out to remind the rest of the workers to begin cleaning up for the night.

As I left and wandered back to my tiny bedroom, I tried to think about what I could fix for dinner. I was able to get larger rations of provisions with the influx of points I was acquiring daily, so I had a few groceries sitting in my mini-fridge. The thing was, I couldn't concentrate hard enough to figure out what I wanted. I was too transfixed on Daryl and the myriad of advice I'd received earlier. Should I confront him now? Be the initiator this time and…do as Sarah suggested? Or should I wait and give it time?

I wasn't going to heed anything Bobbie said because I knew Daryl wasn't an asshole. Well, not in the sense that he only got upset because I wouldn't have sex with him. He _was_ still an asshole for what he said to me, but I don't think he meant it, just like I hadn't meant to slap him. My emotional reflexes had been sharper than my logic that night as his bad choice in words had been for him. We'd both wronged the other, but would Daryl forgive me?

Yes, I decided. He would forgive me if he hadn't already; eventually, anyway.

He needed to know why I was pushing him away and understand what I was feeling, though. Or else he might never know why I couldn't be with him; not until we were back in Alexandria for good, at least. That was going to be the hard part. There was no telling how long we would be here for or if we'd be able to go back home at all. Would it be worth it to run all the risks of feeling everything for him and losing him just as easily or should I have nothing and play it safe for the both of us? I didn't feel quite selfish, but it seemed as if I should.

Dwight's words ran through the projector wheel of my thoughts again, and I shuddered in excited dread at the possibility of a new ally and at the prospect of a having another nursery-rhyme deciding my fate. That was the biggest factor I needed to consider. I would wait it out until this issue with Dwight was resolved, and even if Daryl and I were still stuck in the Sanctuary after, fuck it. I wouldn't deny myself the pleasure of his company anymore. Life was too short as those of us who were left knew all too well.

It was as I was walking down the corridor considering these options that I saw him. It had been odd to not run into him the past few days since our argument, and I took that to mean he had made sure his schedule was opposite to mine as a way to avoid me. That hurt a bit, but it was also understandable. He stopped mid-step, his eyes holding mine silently as he stood statuesque at the opposite end of the hall. I had slowed my pace when I first spotted him, but I kept my measure steady as I got nearer to my turn. The hallway to my room was before I'd have to walk past him, so I could easily ignore him and go about my night if I wanted to. I was half tempted to do that with the way he was looking at me, like he was half scared and still a little bit angry, but ultimately the decision was made for me when a small group of Saviors rounded the corner behind him and stopped to talk.

"Daryl! Just the man I wanted to see," a burley, blond headed man said, grabbing his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

 _Wow, you're making friends. Good for you_ , I thought sincerely. I was happy to see the sight.

Daryl didn't pay the man any mind at first, and I gave him a small smile when he continued to stare at me instead. I hoped it was enough to show him that I was sorry, even if it was the smallest of gestures, but Daryl turned away at that exact moment and I wasn't sure if he saw it or not.

 _A cheese sandwich_ , I settled on for my dinner. It was all I felt like I deserved.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Well, I hope this chapter wasn't too cringe worthy. I don't know how well I write sex scenes, but I guess this one will do? It made me giggle like the ten-year-old girl that I am on the inside, so I got something out of it at least.**

 **I wonder what Negan has planned... I wonder if Daryl and Everly will make up... I wonder what you all think about the matter!?**


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Daryl's heart was pounding in his chest as he came to a complete halt. Everly was just ahead of him and coming his way down the corridor and he didn't know what to do. He had tried to avoid this moment for the past three days, not willing to face her after how he'd acted, but it had to come eventually. He could turn around and go back the way he came, but that would make him more of a coward than he already was. The thought of just walking past her crossed his mind, but he would never be able to do that. Everly would be in his arms without him even thinking about it and Daryl wasn't sure that was what she wanted anymore judging by the look on her face.

"Daryl! Just the man I wanted to see."

He turned just as Alan, a man he'd met on his last two runs and someone who he tolerated more than most in the Sanctury, put a hand on his shoulder. Daryl greeted him back briefly and looked down the hall again to find Everly, but she was gone. He felt his insides constrict.

"Negan just told us that we'll be leaving on another run in a couple of days. We'll be heading south this time. New territory for you, brother."

"Yeah, man. Lookin' forward to it," Daryl replied and held in a sigh. He didn't like going on runs quite as much as he thought he would. He enjoyed being out of the confines of the factory, yes, but leaving Everly to be subjected to whatever whims Negan had made him uneasy. Daryl had a feeling this upcoming trip was going to be much worse.

"The guys and I were just heading down to the hideaway. You wanna join?" Alan pointed his thumb in the direction Daryl had been traveling initially. He glanced around at the group of Saviors and saw people he didn't care to fraternize with.

"Naw. I'm just gonna head to bed," Daryl declined. He also thought maybe he could go to Everly's room. Try to talk to her again and use his brain more this time around. Or maybe he'd just be a chicken shit and ignore her some more. Truthfully, he was afraid. He was also embarrassed of himself, and every time he remembered what he said to her, he felt the harsh sting of the slap she'd given him. And he blamed only himself for it.

"Come on, man. Just come for a bit, have a few drinks, unwind a little bit. You look like you could use it." Alan shook Daryl's shoulder with a laugh.

Daryl looked from him to the others around the group again. He really just wanted to be alone and brood over the poor choices he'd made, and maybe figure out how he could fix them. But who was he kidding? Everly barely made eye contact with him, and he wasn't always the greatest at reading the body language of women, but she didn't seem too thrilled to see him in the same hallway as her. A nice, stiff drink might help cure the heartache he felt and put him to sleep more easily.

"Alright, I'll tag along," Daryl finally agreed.

"That's my man!" Alan smiled at him. "Let's get to it then!"

They walked down to the hideaway, the men around him talking about women, cars, and the shitty work week they had. Daryl really couldn't follow along although he had plenty to discuss. He wanted to go after Everly, tell her he was sorry and that he was worthless, but the fear came back; the fear that she would agree with him. He'd always felt like a fuck-up since he was a boy. That's all his father ever told him he was and his brother Merle didn't always hold back on him either. Why would Everly want someone like him? Someone who couldn't control themselves? What good would he do her? What good has a loser like him ever done for anybody?

 _Not a damn thing_ , Daryl lamented and sat down heavily in a chair once the lot of them entered the hideaway.

The place was as busy and loud as it had been last the time, but he felt less out of place this go-around. It helped that he was with other Saviors similar to him and not as a prisoner to Negan. Daryl glanced around for the man, not wanting to stick around if he was there, and thankfully he didn't see him. Alan placed a rather large and full glass of dark liquid in front of him.

"One of Simon's newest batches," Alan said, holding up and inspecting his own glass. "He calls it the King's Mead, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. I'm not entirely sure what's in it, but I hear it's good enough."

Daryl wasn't sure he'd like the beverage so much seeing as he was more a spirits and hard liquor kind of guy, but he picked up the glass anyway and brought it to his lips. He took a taste, letting the beer sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing. He decided it was better than the piss water generic beer he used to drink with Merle. He gulped down a few mouthfuls, suddenly thirsty for the taste.

"Damn, slow down, fella. Don't wanna get ahead of yourself too early, we still got the rest of the night to get shitfaced," Alan laughed and sat down next to him, striking up a conversation with a dark-skinned man.

"Is this the only thing they got?" Daryl asked Alan, interrupting his conversation. Both he and the other man, Shawn, looked at him.

"Nah, they got some other stuff, but they can be kind stingy about it. We gotta polish these off first."

Daryl took that as confirmation he would be getting more and that was exactly what he wanted. He raised the glass to his lips and chugged the whole thing down in a matter of seconds, letting out a large belch as he set it back down on the table. All the men looked at him with praiseful eyes.

"What other stuff?" Daryl questioned seriously and all the men laughed.

"Holy shit, man. I like you more and more each day." Alan placed a hand on Daryl's shoulder again, chuckling to himself. "I'll get more, but this time, nurse the damn thing. I wanna enjoy my beer, too."

A few hours (and drinks) later, Daryl was feeling particularly drunk and even more remorseful. He knew that drinking would sour his mood, but he hadn't expected to feel this sad. Everyone around the table had paced themselves, enjoying each other's company and conversation which Daryl had barely contributed to other than to ask for more alcohol. Normally, he was the type to get up and get it himself, but Alan offered each time and by a certain point, Daryl felt like he wouldn't be able to stand on his own. As it was, the room was currently shifting too much for him to trust himself on his feet, anyway. He decided to take a breather to right himself a bit.

It was as he was sitting back, relaxing and indulging in his inebriation that Negan entered the room and the once boisterous conversation came to complete halt. Everyone got down on their knee instantly, and Daryl let his head loll back, rolling his eyes and letting out an irritated groan in the process.

"Dude, get the fuck down," Shawn warned him through his teeth. Daryl looked lazily at Shawn as he vigorously directed his eyes to the floor over and over again, trying to get him to take the hint and get down on his knee. Alan finally grabbed Daryl's arm and pulled him down as Negan navigated his way through the room.

"You wanna special date with Lucille, dickhead?" Alan asked him.

"Fuck off me," Daryl slurred, yanking his arm from Alan's grasp. He'd like to see Negan try to fuck with him. He'd rip that stupid fucking baseball out of his hands and shove the barbed end up his lordly ass.

"Don't stop the party for me," Negan said when he was halfway through the room. "As you were."

Everyone went back to their prior activities, and the guys at his table all got up and sat back down. Daryl stayed on his knees.

"Daryl," Alan let out a nervous laugh, "what're you doing?"

He didn't respond. He had been looking at the floor before, trying to get his sight steady as he stared at the legs of his chair, but now he raised his head, his hair obscuring most of his unsteady view, and spotted the person he hated most in the world.

"Daryl?" Alan tried again, giving the other guys at the table an unsure look.

Suddenly, he was up on his feet, picking his chair up and ready to throw it, but it was forced back down on its legs almost instantly, Alan's hands on top of his.

"It's time you called it a night, don't you think?" Alan's voice was soothing and his face calm, but his hands held onto Daryl's in a crushing grip. Daryl sneered at him.

"Let me go," he growled out.

"Not a chance, friend. Not until you agree that you're done. Come on, I'll walk you back to your room," Alan offered, trying to take the chair from his hands.

"Naw," Daryl declined and tighten his fingers around the wooden back of the chair.

"Get it together, man. Don't be a fucking moron. You're gonna get yourself killed," Shawn tried to reason, throwing sideway glances at Negan across the room while also attempting to look like nothing was off. If something was going to go down, he sure as hell wasn't going to be part of it.

Fed up and tired, Daryl shoved the chair away from him as well as Alan's hands in the process. Alan caught the chair before it clattered to the floor, sliding it into place against the table while Daryl paced back and forth and glared in Negan's direction.

"Take it easy, man. Let's just take a walk." Alan tried to put a placating hand on Daryl's arm but he slapped him away.

"I'm fuckin' good."

Alan put his hands up and backed away, not sure what to do. The easygoing atmosphere they had early was gone.

"Fuck this," Daryl threw his hands up and started toward the doors.

"Should've listened to him when he declined the first time," Shawn commented to Alan and took a sip of his drink. Alan shook his head and rolled his eyes, sitting back down. He opened his mouth to reply, but the act was cut short.

"Daryl!" Negan's voice boomed throughout the entire room, essentially cutting off everyone's conversation once more. Daryl stopped halfway to the door, his shoulders rigid. Negan continued to beckon him over. "Get on over here, you dirty bastard! I haven't seen your fucking ugly ass mug in a coon's age!"

Daryl didn't move, not sure if he should ignore Negan and shove through the door or obey. He felt the anger building up in his chest and spreading down his arms. He didn't fully trust himself being near Negan at the moment.

"Daryl!" Negan sang out, followed by a whistle. "Come on, boy! Let's go!"

Slowly, Daryl turned and stalked over to Negan's table. The room's previous chattering was slowly building back up, but he could feel everyone's eyes on him and hear their whispers as he walked by. He didn't look at a single one of them as he kept glaring eyes straight ahead to his attended destination and the person who waited for him there.

"That's it, boy. There you go," Negan coaxed with a smile as Daryl go closer.

"Here, take a seat," Simon suggested and kicked out a chair to him. Daryl didn't take it.

"Sit, boy!" One of Negan's brainless followers at the table yelled followed by a hearty guffaw. Negan smiled in amusement at the command.

"You heard the man," Negan's voice was smooth. "Sit…boy."

Daryl thought about kicking the chair away. He thought about picking it up and breaking it across Simon's head and using one of the pointed broken ends to shove into the yelling Saviors neck. He thought about digging his fingers into Negan's face and ripping off his skin, but in the end he stayed where he was.

"Sit!" Negan bellowed, his smile gone and his expression gravely serious.

Daryl decided to not make matters worse. He hooked one leg of the chair with his foot and dragged it closer to him. He took a seat away from the table but kept it close enough so that he'd be able to hear those who sat at it. Negan laughed quietly at him, shaking his head.

"There's a good boy. That's how you follow commands," Negan mocked him.

"Damn, you've been getting into my Liquid Fire, haven't you?" Simon asked him. He turned to Negan. "Or maybe it's the King's Mead, but either way, this guy is drunker than hell. Look at him. He's looking more fetal alcohol syndrome-y than usual. You can see it in the eyes, the way they kinda drift apart more than they typically do." Simon gave Daryl a smartass smile. "Hey, it's okay, man! That ratty half-part you got going on covers it up. Mostly."

"If he were any more inbred, he'd be a sandwich," the Savior who yelled at him to sit earlier added in, and then laughed hysterically at his own joke.

"Oh, that's a good one! I gotta save that one for later," Simon commented after a laugh, taking sip of his drink.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Negan laughed, shaking his head at the insulting banter. Once he stopped laughing, he fixed Daryl with an amused look. "How's your week going, buddy?"

"It's going fine," Daryl snapped.

"Oh, easy there, fella. Don't wanna bite too hard on the hand that feeds you," Simon gave him a warning look and then the next moment it was lit like a bright light. "Roxanne!"

"Hey, guys. Just wanted to come and check up on the lot of you."

Daryl was overcome by sweet smelling perfume, and he could feel Roxanne's presence beside him as she used the back of his chair to lean a hand on. The tip of her hair brushed the top of his shoulder.

"Oh, we're doing just fine now, baby doll. Why don't you come take a sit on ol' papa's lap," Simon flashed her a wide smile and patted his thigh.

"Simon, you're such a pervert," Roxanne laughed flirtatiously. She glanced down at Daryl who sat stone faced staring at Negan who stared right back smilingly.

"I heard," Negan began but stopped to light a cigar. He took a few puffs to get the embers burning, then huffed out the smoke in Daryl's direction. He started again. "I heard that you did a good job on your last run. Apparently handled yourself like a pro. I've gotta say, I'm a bit impressed and only a tiny bit disappointed. While I like having you on my crew, there is a small part me that wishes you would fail. That, or meet a grisly, untimely demise, but that's purely personal, and right now, I'm all business. I'm gonna go ahead and say that you're already aware of the next trip coming up?"

Daryl nodded once. He wasn't sure what Negan wanted from him, and Daryl's willingness to comply with any request he might have was falling short of successful in prospect, but he held on to his composure; if only for the sake of Everly's wellbeing and his own head.

"Wonderful!" Negan beamed, taking puff on his cigar. Smoke flowed out of his mouth as he spoke. "It doesn't seem like it, but behind that stubborn asshole exterior, you've got some semblance of having your shit together. Even if it's a means to make your own end, your end still revolves around me, so I can dig it. But listen, I have assignment for you."

Daryl thought for a moment, his brain working hard through the booze it was soaking in. What kind of assignment did Negan have in mind? What would it entail? And how would it affect Everly, if at all?

"What's it about?" Daryl asked cautiously. He didn't want to agree to anything until he was sure it wouldn't involve Everly.

"Nothing too special," Negan twirled the cigar between his thumb and forefinger. "I've just got a man on the loose, and I thought maybe you could utilize those superior tracking skills of yours to hunt him down and bring him back. He pussied out and snuck away from camp, abandoning his outpost when he was supposed to be on the lookout while everyone slept. Three of my men ended up dying that night because of it. I want him found, and I want you to do it. You said you were a good tracker. Now, I'm putting that claim to the test."

 _Goddamn it_ , Daryl thought. He didn't want to be part of this. Tracking animals was one thing. He knew the signs to look for and the kind of habits they tended to have. Daryl didn't know the person Negan wanted him to find, and he wasn't sure he could do it. The man could be long gone by now or dead, and even if he did agree to go out searching for him, he wouldn't know where to start.

"Trackin' don't work that way," Daryl said, hoping to get out of this. "I don't know this person, who he was, what he did, or where he was from. That might seem unimportant to you, but it certainly helps to have a startin' point. Not to mention, if he ran off even a day ago, he could be long gone by now. It'd be damn near impossible to find him."

"Oh, I'm not so sure he's a far gone as you think he is," Negan countered with a smile. "The sack of shit is as old as shit. In fact, I'm thinking the son of a bitch might be dead by now, but if he isn't," Negan lifted his hands in the air, "You'll be there to find him."

Daryl couldn't believe him, and definitely didn't believe in his own ability to find whoever Negan was looking for. He wasn't fucking Robocop draped in human skin. He couldn't search hundreds of miles of terrain to find one person; that was ludicrous. But Daryl didn't know how to refuse him again.

"Daryl," Negan sang his name again, getting his attention. "You said my name, didn't you? You said it. You're a part of me now. So, I'm asking you to go out there and track the fucker down who abandoned your brothers and got them killed. Wear my name like a badge of honor and do what you promised me. Don't shame it."

 _You shame your fucking self_ , Daryl thought menacingly, but he knew he had no choice in the matter. It was pointless even trying to reason his way out of it. Negan took his sullen silence as an agreement.

"Don't worry, Daryl!" Negan chimed at him. "I know the person who ran off well. I'm not gonna throw you out there bone dry with nothing to go on. I've got your back. If I wanted you to fail, I'd make it much easier on me and harder on you, trust me. I will say that the person in question is smart. He has a lot of medical knowledge under his belt, and I'm sure he can use that to his advantage out in the wild even if the coward's belly is a soft as dog shit. That's why I'm choosing you. You're experienced at this. You're _good_ at this. I have faith you can find him and get him back to me where he belongs."

"Is that it?" Daryl answered, ready to leave.

"Almost," Negan smiled condescendingly at him. "You'll leave in a couple of days, which is on purpose, mind you. I have a feeling this person might be in a specific place at a certain time. You and my guys will still travel to your initial objective, but you'll pass it, go fifty miles or so down the road, and search the southeastern point in that area until you find him. You see," Negan put his cigar down and leaned forward with his elbows on the table, "the man you're looking for is from the town your supply stop is at, Hilltop. He's got personal connections there, a brother who's a doctor, just like him. I know he's smart enough to maneuver his way around to avoid us tracking him down, but I also believe he's stupid enough to go to the first place we'd think to look. Fact is you're going to find him before he gets there because I believe you can."

"You so sure about that?" Daryl asked sarcastically.

"Why, Daryl," Negan gave him an admonishing grin, "You haven't _already_ forgotten who are you, have you? Not just two damn minutes ago, I had to reminded you. And not only that, but I hear other things have been happening in my humble abode."

What did Negan know? Daryl flashed back to the night of his argument with Everly, and the events that transpired with her before, but other than that, nothing extraordinary had happened. After he left, he'd simply stomped to his room and locked himself inside for the rest of the night, too ashamed and upset to do anything else. No one would've known what happened between them except for maybe Arat, but he'd only briefly run into her in the hall away from Everly's room. There was no way she could've witnessed or heard anything.

Simon's slow whistling brought him back from his thoughts. Daryl caught Negan's eye.

"I told you to not to fuck it up," Negan voice was low, but audible. Daryl's heart was pounding hard in his chest. "When are you gonna start listening to me?"

* * *

Daryl was livid after his conversation with Negan. He managed to just barely restrain himself after Negan had alluded to his fight with Everly and Daryl's failure to keep her happy. His inebriety was slashed in half the moment Negan and his brownnosed henchmen walked in, but after that it was completely ruined. So, he decided to have one last quick drink (or two) with Alan and his friends before he left for the night. Walking back to his room now might've been a mistake, but he felt numb enough to not care.

He managed to make it up to his floor, but the ascent up the stairs got the blood moving more quickly and the alcohol was on full blast in his system. He caught himself against the wall before he fell down.

"Whoa, slow down!"

He heard a feminine voice call from behind him. He didn't bother to acknowledge whoever it belonged to and continued to stumble down the hallway instead, using the wall as support.

"Hang on."

He heard the voice again and felt the soft tug of a small hand on his upper arm. He turned his head, hoping that it was Everly's face he would see, as his arm was lifted and put behind a head that was much shorter than he was. It was Roxanne, the Sanctuary harlot.

"Whadya want?" Daryl slurred disappointedly. He didn't want her near him.

"I'm helping you out. You can barely walk down the hallway by yourself," Roxanne explained.

"I'm fine," Daryl protested, trying to take his arm away from her shoulders, but she held onto him with both hands. She was surprisingly strong from a small woman.

"You're not, but it's okay. I don't mind helping you out."

"I don't want ya to," Daryl persisted.

"And I don't care," Roxanne shot back. "Lead me to your room."

Daryl sighed, not having the strength to really put up much more of an argument, so he shuffled his feet forward and used the small blonde to hold himself upright. When they reached his door, he expected her to drop him off and go her own way, but she walked him in, shut the door, and set him down on the bed. He was surprised.

"There you go," Roxanne soothed, removing his shoes.

"Stop," Daryl told her. She was being too familiar with him.

"I'm just trying to-"

"Help, I know. Don't." Daryl covered his eyes with his forearm and waited for her to leave. He'd finish undressing once she left if he didn't pass out before then. After a few moments when he didn't hear her retreating footsteps, he peeked an eye out from under his arm and found her sitting in a chair, staring at her lap. He sighed. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she responded, but her tone was flat, emotionless.

Daryl brought his arm down and propped himself up on his elbows.

"You ain't gonna cry, are ya? I don't got nothin' against ya and I appreciate your help, but I just wanna sleep. I've had a shitty fuckin' week."

"Week?" Roxanne laughed sardonically. "Try the past two years for me."

"I'm pretty sure that's everyone's story," Daryl replied, and flopped back down on his back.

"Did you lose everything?"

The tone in which she asked him made Daryl bring his head up and look at her again. She looked so miserable and small, curled in on herself as she sat staring at him. He attempted to sit up, not gracefully, but he managed well enough, and gave her as much attention as he could muster.

"I didn't have much to lose," he answered her truthfully. "I lost whatever I had left not too long after, but I gained more as time went on. Now…," he thought about it a moment, delicately going over all the things he cared about and where he stood with them, "I ain't got none of that left neither."

"I'm sorry." Roxanne seemed sincere, her face a mask of empathy.

"It's alright."

"I lost everything within a couple of months of everyone turning. I thought about walking out into a crowd of them and letting them have me." Her lip started to tremble as she thought about that night and how close she had been to doing it. She quickly straightened herself and put on a smile. "But then I came here and found some sort of purpose."

Daryl regarded her drunkenly, not sure that he understood her purpose of sleeping with men just because they wanted her to. But he got that she was doing what she had to to keep herself alive and sheltered. He couldn't say he didn't know and befriend others like her before.

"I know you think I'm disgusting," she said, breaking her gaze with him and covering herself.

"No!" Daryl said, waving a hand at her. "You're fine. I just…don't trust any damn person in this shithole. You're not disgustin', you're just a free spirit."

Roxanne laughed. She found his attempts to make her feel better were working despite the lack of truth she found in them. She believed he was sincere in what he said; she just didn't think it was true.

"You're a kind person, Daryl. Though, you haven't always been so kind to me, I can see it in you," she said. She got up and came to sit on the edge of the bed by his knees. "You wanna talk about why your week was shitty?"

"It ain't nothing," Daryl downplayed it. He didn't want to make her privy to what had happened between him and Everly, but maybe she could offer some good advice. "I just had a fight…with a friend. A woman that I like."

"Oh," Roxanne said, looking at her hands in her lap disappointedly. "The pretty redhead?"

"Yeah." Daryl nodded.

"What did you fight about?"

"I-" Daryl heaved out a large breath. "I was just an asshole, treated her unfairly because I was jealous of something that doesn't even exist. I was being stupid."

"You haven't made up with her yet?" Roxanne questioned, a hopeful inflection in her voice.

"Naw. I don't think she wants to, and I don't blame her. I'm a fucking loser with nothing to give her."

He didn't want to admit that he was scared of her rejection. It made him think he was that much more justified in calling himself a deadbeat, just like he father always said he was.

"Don't say that. You're not a loser, and you have plenty to offer," Roxanne disagreed vigorously, placing a hand on his thigh. "She just doesn't see it. You're sweet and caring. Anyone would be lucky to have a guy like you."

"I appreciate that," he said, not paying much mind to her hand.

"I mean it, Daryl. I like you."

That got his attention, and so did her drifting hand as it found the front of his jeans as she leaned forward to kiss him. Daryl couldn't find it in himself to move at first. He was too shocked at what was happening, but he muddled through the flood of alcohol in his brain, and put his hands on Roxanne's arms to push her away.

"I'm sorry," Roxanne apologize, covering her mouth with her hand.

Daryl scooted back some, trying to straighten himself up more and get a hold of the situation. His limbs felt heavy, and his judgment was clouded, but his body respondeded instantly. He felt very conflicted about that.

"It's alright. You didn't do nothing wrong," he tried to soothe her, hoping he hadn't hurt her feelings too much. He just needed her to leave before he did more that he would regret.

She gazed at him a moment longer before throwing herself on him again, swinging one leg over to straddle his hips and her hands holding the sides of his face as she kissed him. Daryl pushed her away again, speaking for firmly for her to stop.

"Why?" Roxanne protested, holding onto his shoulders as he pushed at her. "Why am I here comforting you and not her? She's doesn't care about you, Daryl. Why should you care about her?"

Daryl didn't know what to say. He knew Everly cared about him. Or he thought she did. He wasn't so sure anymore, and as Roxanne pressed against him again, he thought about how soft and warm Everly had been under him, how eager she seemed, and how easily she had pushed him away. Did she truly care for him or was she only pretending to spare his feelings? Why would a woman like her ever feel anything for a man like him? He definitely felt like he didn't deserve her.

 _She's better than me_ , Daryl drunkenly thought and he kissed Roxanne back.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **So...**

 **Thank you to my guest reviewer (and all reviewers). I'm glad the last chapter was enjoyable. I have a feeling this one will be disappointing to some. The story's not over yet. That's all I'll say.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

It was midday. The sun a blazing torch in the sky that set fire to my back as I worked outside, surveying the men who maintained Negan's walker guardians. I was sweating like crazy, even with my hair pulled up to keep it off my neck, but I felt sorry for the ones in the dirty, spray painted sweat suits. I had the advantage of the shade if I wanted it; they did not, and their wet, red faces were evident of that. I stood by the fence near them, feeling no more worthy of the protection from the sun than them. I once wore that suit, too.

"Everly!"

I turned in the direction of the shout, spotting a Savior at the top of the stairs by the railing. I shaded my eyes as he yelled at me again.

"Inside! Negan wants a word!"

I faced the walkers again where the men still worked poking and prodding them out of the way so they could check their bindings and add new ones to the assemblage. They were currently dragging one out to the road, the severely rotted corpse leaving a chunky sludge of a trail as it bit and snarled at the air. They put a shovel through its head once they moved it out of the way, and I waved to them as they came back. They made their way toward me.

"I need to go in. Why don't you guys take a break and get some water. If anyone stops you, tell them I gave you permission."

"Thanks, Everly," one of the men said, a tortured look on his drenched face. They walked past me and into the factory.

I waited a moment longer, letting the sweat roll down my face and back as I prolonged my inevitable conversation with Negan. I wondered what he wanted, and I honestly didn't care nor wanted to know, but I moved my feet anyway, knowing I couldn't refuse. I decided to stop by my room first and cool down a bit, get some water. He could wait for me; I wasn't his lap dog.

I wiped a wet rag across my neck and chest, cooling down my fevered skin and chugged down a bottle of water. The Sanctuary didn't have much in the way of air conditioning. At least, not in the respect that is was available throughout. Negan, his wives, and a few of his leading men expended that luxury for themselves. But what I had was good enough for me. I didn't need a lot and I was getting cooler by the minute.

I got up, discarding the wet rag on the tiny table I used as a dinette, and went to a dresser. I wanted to change my shirt. Not for Negan's viewing pleasure, but for my comfort. I wore a light green tank which showed more skin than I was comfortable with. It had been necessary, working outside in the heat; even if the days were starting to get cooler as fall neared. It was still blistering when the sun was out.

I found a simple t-shirt that was a size too large for me. I set it on top of the dresser and lifted my sweaty tank over the top of my head. It was as I had my arms crossed in the air and the tank pulled behind my head that I heard my door open. I whipped around, clutching the damp fabric to my breasts.

"Shit, if I'd have known you were getting undressed, I would've been quieter," Negan smiled from the doorway, Lucille sitting pretty on his shoulder.

"You couldn't knock?" I demanded, appalled.

"I could've," he answered, stepping through the doorway and shutting the door behind him. He took a couple slow steps to my dinette and propped Lucille in one chair while he took the other, sitting sideways in it to face me. His back was to the wall, and he placed one foot on his knee while he rested a hand on this side of his smiling face, watching me. He gestured for me to continue.

"You could at least have the decency to go back out while I finish." I glared at him.

"You could've had the decency to show your ass up at my door when I requested it," he countered still smiling.

I closed my eyes in frustration and let out a sigh. I turned my back to him, yanking the clean t-shirt off of the dresser. I hurriedly put it over my head and shoved it over myself as I deserted the tank top on the floor. I wrapped my arms around myself as I turned back around to see Negan in the same spot. He hadn't moved an inch. And I couldn't lie, I respected him _marginally_ for that. His propriety might have a limit, but it started somewhere. That was something.

"So, what did you need to talk to me about?" I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed across from him.

He took his hand away from his face and started drumming his fingers on the table. I watched them go up and down as it rattled the flimsy table, the tapping noise a pattern of my forming irritation. I spotted the wet rag not far from his hand and wanted to grab it; I suddenly felt hot and tired again.

"I wanted to invite you out on a run…with me," Negan finally said, his eyes steady on my face.

"Well…," I began, slightly surprised. How do I refuse this offer? I didn't want to go on a run with Negan; that sounded miserable. "I have a job here, though."

"I think your pals will be okay without you for a few days. And frankly, I'm not giving you a choice in the matter. You're coming."

"What if I don't want to?" I asked stubbornly.

Negan leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his gaze much more intense. "Do you honestly think I give a shit what you want to do? You work for me, you take the orders I give you, you follow the rules. Simple as that."

 _Oh, right. How could I have forgotten?_ This whole being Negan thing was starting to become bullshit. I wanted to ask him why he couldn't just leave me alone, but the process of even thinking the question was pointless. I kept my mouth shut and lowered my gaze.

"When do we leave?"

"The day after tomorrow. Enough time for you to prepare," Negan paused, his gaze turning curious. "I'm surprised you aren't a bit more eager to go. Get out on the road, get some fresh air."

"I have my reasons," I stated. He could take from that what he wanted, but he and I both knew I meant him. He smiled. "Will Daryl will be going?"

"Now I am fucking shocked," Negan chuckled. "He _is_ going on a run, but not with us. I've got him on the hunt for some fuckwad who bailed on me. Why're you so curious about him? You haven't…seen him recently?"

I knotted my brows together. "Yes, sort of. I mean, I've seen him…I see him every day."

"Huh…," Negan said, a knowing smile creasing his face, "interesting. Have you seen him today?"

"No, not yet," I shifted around, feeling uncomfortable. I didn't know what this was leading to and I was starting to get nervous. He couldn't possibly know about our fight and how distant we've been. Or he could. I guess it wouldn't take a genius to notice that we _hadn't_ seen each other every day this past week.

"Funny fucking thing," Negan began, rubbing his chin, "I saw your friend Daryl at the hideaway last night…which you apparently already know, right?" He waited for me to respond with a questioning look on his face. He smiled when I didn't answer. "No, you don't know damn thing. Well, the shithead seemed pretty out of it, blitzed off his balls and snarling like a rabid pig, and there _is_ the fact that I didn't see you there at all which I found rather fucking peculiar since it's like you two are glued to the goddamn hip. Odd."

"Did something happen?" I questioned. I wanted to know more now, and my first instinct was to be worried. "Is he okay?"

"Oh, he's fucking dandy. Probably more fucking dandy than I am today because not one of my damn wives wanted to fuck me last night. Can you believe that shit? Out of all six of them!"

"Yes, how tragic," I mumbled. I moved the conversation back to Daryl. "So, he was just drunk?"

Negan only stared at me and smiled. I didn't know what to make of this answer and I was growing impatient. I sighed in annoyance and hit the bed beside me.

"Well?"

"Hey, he's fine," Negan said in a soothing tone, getting up to sit by me on the bed. I turned to him incredulously. "He got fucking wasted. He was an angry and surly motherfucker, but I feel like those are the two character flaws he shows most often. I had a quick discussion with him, and he left after that."

"Okay," I breathed out a sigh of relief. I was starting to think he did something stupid or got into trouble somehow. I was happy to know there wasn't much to it. "That's it?"

Negan took in a deep breath, seemingly excited, and put his arm around me. "No, that's not it."

"What happened?" I felt almost numb and my heart started pounding in my chest. Did Negan hurt him? Did someone else? Had he called me in for a meeting to tell me that - I took in a shaky breath and held it - he was locked up again, beaten and alone?

"I'm not privy to the details, just the overall manner of the juncture," Negan spoke ambiguously and I furrowed my brows at him. He squeezed my shoulder. "It could be idle rumors as everyone in this shithole _just loves_ to run their fucking traps, but since I heard it from the whore's mouth itself… Aw, shit! I mean _horse's_ mouth," he was grinning at me again, hiding jovially behind his secret. "I'll take it as truth. Probably exaggerated truth, but truth enough."

"What is it?" I asked him, curious but a sick feeling was forming in my stomach.

"Look, if you're really curious, just ask Daryl. I'm sure he'll tell you what happened. If you aren't satisfied, talk to Roxanne," Negan's smile faded as he regarded me, studying my face. He cleared his throat and looked down momentarily before meeting my gaze again, serious. "And if you aren't happy with what you hear and you need someone to talk to, I'll be here."

"Please leave," I whispered to him.

I wanted to be alone, figure out what he was trying to tell me in his not so subtle game of bullshit sympathy. Whatever happened with Daryl, and possibly Roxanne, Negan didn't feel sorry about it; he actually seemed rather pleased until he pretended to give a shit about my feelings. But the last thing he said set the tremors of worry wriggling in my stomach. Something clearly did occur, and it was something that I would find significant, but not pleasant. I needed to find out what it was.

"If I were you, I'd find out what went on. I'd fucking love tell you, but I think it'll have more merit coming from him," he said before getting up and walking to the door. He stopped and turned back, his hand on the knob. "And once you learn the truth, clear your head. I need you sharp. Remember, day after tomorrow. Be ready."

Then he left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

* * *

I waited until the evening to look for Daryl, going over all the possibilities in my head of what could've happened and what I could say. I came up with plenty for the former, but the latter was lost on me. When I felt like I had procrastinated enough, I pulled myself together the best I could and headed out. I walked through the compound now, searching everywhere for him and becoming more desperate when he was nowhere to be found. He wasn't in the spots I thought he might be and since we'd been on the outs the past week, I didn't know where else I could look. He hadn't been in his room which meant he could be anywhere in the endless maze of this place.

I was pissed. Mainly at Negan because I felt like he was just taking me for a ride. I told myself not to trust a damn thing that came out of his mouth, but there was a part of me that thought what he said might be valid. Once I found Daryl, I'd know for sure. I didn't need to speak to Roxanne. There was only one person here who I knew would be real with me.

"Fuck," I whined, on the verge of giving up. Daryl was still M.I.A. and I didn't know where else to look after the last place. I was fresh out of ideas. It was possible he was outside somewhere, but I hadn't seen him when I'd been out there earlier.

 _Bathrooms?_ I thought. _Yes, check the bathrooms._

I burst through the door, startling a handful of people who occupied the facilities.

"Daryl!" I yelled out.

"Shut the hell up! What the fuck are you yelling for? We're not all deaf in here," one woman said, wrapping a towel around her.

"Daryl," I called again, this time a bit lower.

I walked through the room, checking shower stalls by tapping the plastic current and asking for Daryl. I encountered a lot of annoyed people, but I kept looking. Suddenly, a hand grabbed me, pulling me around a corner. It was Daryl.

"What the fuck are ya doin'?" He asked, holding a towel that was wrapped around his waist. Water dripped from his hair and down his chest.

"I'm looking for you. Is it true?" I blurted out, nearly out of breath with anxiety.

"True? What're ya talkin' about?"

"I don't know," I confessed. I really didn't. I tried to organize my thoughts. "Negan came to see me, told me I was going on a run, and then he talked about you. He said something happened last night…and to ask you for the truth."

Daryl's throat moved up and down as he swallowed, his eyes staring straight into mine apprehensively. His shoulders were tense and the hand that held the towel at his waist was suddenly clenching.

"Is it true?" I asked again, feeling the fear I could see in Daryl. "I have the impression… Did you sleep with…? Is that what happened or am I completely wrong?"

Daryl didn't answer, choosing his infamous silence over speaking to me. I wanted to slap him again.

"Am I wrong?" I demanded more firmly.

"I'm…not sure," he finally said, taking in a breath.

"You don't remember?"

"Not a lot."

"What do you remember?"

After another lengthy pause, he started to speak again. His voice was steadier than he looked. "I remember seeing you, in the hall, then drinkin' a lot. I remember kissing Roxanne and…," Daryl cleared his throat, "waking up to her this mornin'."

"Oh," I replied, feeling defeated. I started to back away from him. "I see."

"Everly, it ain't like that," he reached out for me, eyes pleading. "I-"

"No, it's okay," I placated and stayed out of his reach. "I'm not angry with you. I really have no right to be. We aren't together. We never really were. I just thought…"

"Everly, I care about you. I know it ain't no damn excuse, but I wasn't sure if you still did. And I was drunk. It didn't mean nothing."

"It's fine!" I spoke over him. I just wanted him to stop talking, stop trying to explain himself. The hurt was beginning to turn into to anger, but at myself. "Daryl, it's fine, and if I don't get to see you again before either one of use leaves, I'm sorry for hitting you. I should've never done that... I'll talk to you later."

I spun on my heel and hurried through the room, hearing Daryl call out to me as I left, but I couldn't face him again. He couldn't see how hurt I felt because it would hurt him, and I didn't want that. Negan had been right and he'd practically gloated in my ignorance of what he knew. I wanted to talk to him now, question him on his motives, but that could wait. I'd see him sooner than I wanted to and I felt too exhausted at the moment. It was time for bed.

* * *

Daryl quickly threw some clothes on, his fingers shaking the faster he tried to go. He had to get to Everly quickly. He wasn't going to let her walk away from the conversation without letting him explain himself further. He needed to tell her he wasn't sure about what happened because he actually didn't know. He remembered kissing Roxanne and feeling aroused, but everything went black after that. And what else was peculiar was that he'd woken up with his jeans still on, albeit shirtless. Roxanne, however, had been completely naked.

Once he was finally, and sloppily, dressed, Daryl rush out of the bathroom and hurried down the hall to Everly's room. It was where he assumed she had went, so he hoped he was going in the right direction when he saw her form up ahead. She was hugging herself slightly hunched over and walking slowly. He rushed up to her and placed a hand on her arm. She spun around, startled.

"I need to talk to you some more…before we both leave. We can't leave it this way," Daryl's tone was somber.

"Alright," Everly agreed and took a step back to set a distance between them. She kept her arms crossed but allowed him to speak.

"I dunno what I can do to make things right. I've never been in this situation before," Daryl sighed and looked at the floor. "I just wanna say that I'm sorry…for hurtin' you and that what happened might not have happened."

"You didn't hurt me," she said flatly, ignoring his last statement.

Daryl met her eyes again in an instant. "Oh."

"I told you it was fine," Everly stammered, looking less foolish than she felt. Of course he had hurt her. It was obvious to them both of them. She continued. "You aren't tied to me. Maybe when we both get back we should just…leave each other alone for a while. Figure out what we want."

"I want you," he said, his words leaving him almost automatically, begging.

"I'm not sure if I believe that," she shook her head, tears forming in her eyes again. She wiped them away. "I know you were drunk and you don't remember much, but you chose to be with her. You didn't come to me. I think that says a lot."

"It doesn't say shit."

"It does to me."

They stared at each other, the silence almost deafening. Daryl wasn't sure what else he could say, and he felt at this point there wasn't much convincing they could do to sway the other.

"You pushed me away, remember?" Daryl said, his emotions getting the best of him as he took a step forward. There was a flash of anger hidden behind the sadness in his eyes.

"I know, Daryl." She found it was easy to sympathize with him because she had pushed him away and shut him out, and it all stemmed from the fear she felt from being with him. Everly felt it wasn't fair of her to be angry at him for finding solace in someone else when she wouldn't let him get it from her. "And I don't blame you. Just do me a favor and stay straight, do what's asked of you, and don't think about me. I think you'll survive better that way."

He felt deflated as she left him standing in the shadows of the hall.

"I'll be damned," Negan's deep voice filled the hallway. Daryl turned around to see him skulking toward him. "You guys didn't just break up, did you?"

Daryl stiffened his muscles, balling his fists and going over the pros and cons of hitting the smiling bastard in the face. And he might would have. He might would've brought the bastard to his knees and kept hitting him until all feeling left his arm, but Negan's men surrounded him. Daryl wouldn't risk Everly's safety either.

"Aw, he looks so sad," Arat fake pouted at Daryl. "How pathetic. You're fucking loving this, aren't you, Negan?"

"I sure as fuck am!" He exclaimed, smiling broadly at her. His face became more serious as he regarded Daryl again. "Aw shit, it wasn't my fault, was it?"

"Did you set me up?" Daryl demanded. He was awfully suspicious of the whole situation.

"Oh, what-the-fuck-ever, I didn't set your dumbass up! You set yourself up," Negan came up to him. "You chose to fuck Roxanne. I didn't pull your dick out and shove it in her, did I?"

"Take a fucking step back." Daryl was over the bullshit. He almost lost it last night. He might not be able to restrain himself now.

Negan leaned forward, his face close to Daryl's, but Daryl refused to move back even slightly. He was standing his ground.

"Easy there, pal. Don't think I won't cave your skull in now, no matter how valuable you might be. Just because you're good at what you do doesn't make you unique. There are plenty more just like you," Negan paused to let that sink in. He leaned in closer still, his voice a whisper. "But she _did_ fuck you. I know she fucked you because I saw it my own damn eyes."

"Bullshit," Daryl argued. Negan shook his head, clicking his tongue.

"Don't _worry_ , Daryl. Everything will turn out fine. I'll try to convince Everly you didn't slide little Richard into Roxanne's v-pocket. I'm a pretty good liar," Negan smirked. "It might take some convincing, though. I may have to show her the credibility in what I say. Perhaps get her to _open_ up to me even if it's just a little. I know she's delicate, so I'll take it slow."

Daryl shoved Negan away from him violently. Simon and Arat rushed him, grabbing onto his arms as Negan managed to keep himself upright.

"You won't go fucking near her," Daryl was growling and nearly ripped his right arm out of Arat's grasp, but Simon held him back and she was able to get a firm hold on him again. She punched him in the side to no effect. It was like he hadn't felt it at all.

"Well, actually," Negan straightened his leather jacket and ran a hand through his hair. He stepped up to Daryl quickly and shoved a solid fist into his stomach. Negan continued as Daryl hunched over, gasping. "She'll be with me all fucking week. You see, I don't make plans without adding a little back-story first. I saw the perfect opportunity with her when you were shitfaced drunk last night, and the real kicker is that Roxanne _actually likes_ you." Negan made a disgusted face and Simon violently yanked on Daryl's arm, wanting to hurt him. "She was more than willing to seduce you last night, her skirt was practically sopping wet before I was finished telling her to go fuck your brains out. Oh, _shit_ , I mean make sure you got to your room _safe and sound_."

"I'll kill you," Daryl gasped out, his stomach still collapsing in on itself.

"I'm betting on it," Negan replied sarcastically. He bent down, putting his hands on his knees and looked Daryl in the eyes. "But I'll fuck your _ex_ -girlfriend first."

Daryl fought again, struggling against his restrainers. He broke free from Arat and she fell to the floor with a grunt. Simon kept formidable a grip on him, pushing him back against the wall as two other Saviors rushed forward to pin him. Negan watched in boredom, almost annoyed.

"Let me gut the fucker," Arat was practically spitting, a large hunting knife shaking in her hand. Negan pushed her arm down gently, his eyes on Daryl.

"Lock him in his room for the night and tomorrow. Set a guard on him," Negan ordered. He spoke to Daryl next. "Get some rest and clear your fucking head. I suggest you really _think things through_ before you act again. Next time you pull shit like this, I'll make sure you watch while I fuck her. And then if anyone is willing, I'll let my men run a train on you."

In the next moment, Daryl saw the butt end of Lucille shooting toward his face and then all was black.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker**.

 **Have a fun and safe Memorial Day weekend, everyone.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

I sat in my room trying to figure out what else I needed to pack for my trip besides fresh clothes, bottled water, and medicine. It was the day of the supply run with Negan and any attempts to get ready had been barely made. I quickly wondered how pissed Negan was at me, but he, nor anyone else, had made an appearance at my door yet. I must not be procrastinating hard enough, but I got up anyway. I had a choice on how I wanted this week to go. It was best that I made it a good one if I could.

The open duffle bag sat on the bed barely full, its opening wide and beckoning. I didn't have many personal items I wanted to bring, and I didn't think I'd have the chance to touch a book even if I had one to take. Not that anything recreational would distract me much.

Thoughts of Daryl and Roxanne plagued my mind, conjured visions of them together playing on repeat. It wasn't enough that he had been so heartbroken when he told me what happened. I understood why he did it and I knew he was hurt; but I was hurting too. And I told myself more than once I would forgive him, but not today. I wasn't ready yet.

 _Soap_ , I thought.

Hopefully that would be something I'd be able to use daily on this expedition. I still wasn't sure of where we were going, but I crossed my fingers for no conflicts, a safe place to sleep each night, and as much privacy as possible. I had plenty of experiences being out in the wild with shelter being scarce and the luxuries of the twenty-first century vanished, but I wasn't ready to relive it. If nothing else, maybe we'd be near water with plenty of bushes no matter how unpleasant that sounded.

I sighed, looking around my tiny room once more before shoving what was left of my necessities in my bag. As I grabbed the zipper, I considered the plastic pink razor that sat in my toiletry bag. It was likely that Negan might allow me a weapon for once, but I thought the chance of being struck by lightning was higher. The razor wouldn't do much in the way of walkers, but if I encountered anything else out there, I might get a few good defensive slashes in if nothing else.

"What the hell," I said and put the whole pack in the duffle bag. If I want to be clean, shaven, and armed at the same time, might as well go prepared. And if the razor didn't do much damage, I could follow it up with a projectile squirt of shampoo to the eyes.

"The pickings of a jujitsu master," I said to myself and went out the door.

* * *

"There's a ray of sunshine this morning," Simon said as I came up to the truck. "I was starting to suspect we might not see any sun this whole week if you didn't show up."

"Good morning to you, too, Simon," I replied stiffly, setting my duffle bag roughly on the ground.

"You can put that in the truck. You'll be riding with us, sunshine!" Simon slapped my shoulder as he walked off.

"Yippie," I quietly cheered, not a trace of happiness in my voice. I picked up my duffle bag again and threw it in the back of the truck.

The day was gray and cool, the clouds not quite dark or full enough for a storm, but the cover from the sun was a relief. I pulled my jacket tighter around me as the breeze picked up and leaned against the truck. I grazed over the parking lot, watching people equip various vehicles and remembered Daryl was leaving today, too. I straightened as I looked for him and saw him standing near his caravan, but it seemed that he had found me first, the bags in his hands forgotten as he stared at me. The person who he was supposed to be handing them to yelled down at him, trying to get his attention but we were locked on each other. He looked pale, and there were markings on his face and arms that indicated he'd been roughed up a bit. I wanted to go to him to see what happened, comfort him, and I took a few steps forward before I realized it and stopped myself.

"Where are ya going?" Negan slid up beside me, quiet as a snake.

"Nowhere," I quickly replied, directing my attention to him.

He slid his gaze over to Daryl then looked at me again, a small smile dimpling his face. He licked his bottom lip with a laugh and I glared at him.

"Don't look at me that way," I said.

"It's hard not to, darlin', but I'll try," he said, moving to put an arm around me. "You guys have your chat?"

"You know we did." I tried hard not to look at Daryl, but I wasn't successful. He had thrown down the bags he'd been holding and was a few paces closer to us. "Did you do that to him?"

"He did that to himself," Negan answered me. He held up Lucille and waved her in the air at Daryl in a friendly gesture, a smile present in his voice. "Have a fun and successful trip! I'm countin' on you!"

Daryl gave Negan one last hard look before moving onto me. He shifted his weight like he wanted to walk forward again, but stayed where he was, his face a mask of worry and remorse.

"Let's load up, sweetheart," Negan whispered in my ear and rubbed my shoulder. I nodded at him, but turned to Daryl one last time and gave him a small wave. It was the only goodbye I could give him.

"We're hittin' the road, assholes! Let's get a move on!" Simon called out, and everyone swung into their vehicles, slamming doors and yelling goodbyes to one another.

I got into the truck I was riding in, sliding to the middle of the three seater bench. It was a smaller, single cabin truck so there wasn't much room, but the tires on it were so huge that we sat high above the ground. It gave me a good view and I caught sight of Daryl again, but Negan came up beside me and swung the passenger door shut, blocking me. He placed an arm flat on the seat behind my head and put Lucille between his knees, a self-satisfied look decorating his face. Simon sat himself behind the wheel and gave it a few good honks as he cranked the engine, the metal frame rumbling under us. He let out a long "yeehaw" out of the open window and revved the engine, the tires turning against the pavement to create white plumes of smoke.

"I hope you haven't been drinking this morning," Negan joked over my head to Simon.

"Only some Liquid Fire!" Simon yelled jovially and slapped my thigh. He dropped the gear into drive. "Onward, noble steed!"

And the truck lurched forward. I managed to pry my fingers from the cushions to buckle myself in before we made it past the gate with Negan's trail of jacked up and armored vehicles behind us. Simon popped in a cd and a loud stream of classic rock and roll flowed out of the speakers.

"Can we roll up the windows?" I yelled out, holding my flying hair down as much as possible.

"What?" Simon yelled back, a dumb smile on his face. He heard me the first time.

I rolled my eyes and didn't waste the breath on repeating myself. I flattened my hair as much as I could and twisted it around at the nape of my neck, resting the back of my head on Negan's arm so it wouldn't come undone. I gave him a look that said deal with it and he gave me a wink back. Deal with it he would, no doubt.

* * *

Daryl finished tossing up the bags to Shawn, and Shawn was certain he'd feel the impact of each one the next morning. He was surprised Daryl was as limber was he was, even in his evident anger. He looked like ten shades of hell with a large black eye and various other bruises purpling his skin. Shawn settled the last bag in the bed of the truck before covering them all up with a tarp and securing it into place. He jumped down and studied Daryl, feeling uncomfortable with how angry he seemed and how fucked up he looked.

"You okay, man?" He asked him cautiously.

"I'm fine," Daryl huffed out, giving him a brief abrasive look. Shawn held up his hands.

"I'm just checking, but you don't look fine."

Daryl only shook his head as he watched the last of Negan's convoy leave the compound. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"We're about to head out. Everything ready?" Alan said as he walked up.

"Yeah," Daryl replied and walked past them to the truck. "I'm drivin'."

"Like hell you are," Shawn countered, following Daryl. "We'll end up in a damn ditch with the way you're acting, all pissed off and shit. Not to mention, you got one eye nearly swollen shut."

"I'll be fuckin' fine!" Daryl sighed, throwing his hands out in frustration. His head was pounding and the swollen flesh around his eye pulsed with each heartbeat.

"Whoa, chill out. Daryl, you can drive later, but right now, we gotta hit the road, man," Alan said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the gate.

"Shit, let's just go," Daryl growled and walked over to the back passenger door. Once they were settled in and the other four cars were ready to go, they started off. After a while, Alan turned to Daryl who sulked out of the window.

"Wanna tell us what's been up with you lately?"

"It ain't nothing," Daryl said and bit his thumb.

"It sure as shit is something," Shawn countered as he adjusted himself in the driver's seat. "We were all there at the hideaway when you thought it would be a damn good idea to go bush hog crazy at the sight of Negan, and hey, we get it, but we're not that stupid, and I would certainly hope you aren't either. So, what's the deal?"

Daryl ran a hand over his face and gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted to talk about right now was Everly - even though he couldn't get her out of his mind. He wasn't one to talk about his feelings, and the last thing he wanted anyone to know that he slept with Roxanne. Or that he possibly had. Daryl still wasn't sure if he had fucked her or not, and thanks to Negan, he never got to chance to see Roxanne to confirm or deny it. Negan had stayed true to his word and kept him locked in his room until this morning. Daryl had to use his own fucking trashcan as a bathroom.

"Look, we've all had our share of shit from Negan. It's sort of the initiation process," Alan reasoned. "You just gotta let it roll off your back and forget about it."

"There ain't gonna be no forgivin' on my part," Daryl spat.

"Alright," Alan said in a placating tone. "Just leave us out of it next time, and get your shit together. If we come back empty handed, I guarantee you Negan will make your and _our_ lives ten times harder."

 _He'll fucking take what I bring him_ , Daryl thought, but then bit down hard on his thumb, drawing blood. He couldn't compromise the integrity of his crew; he liked them well enough, or at least the two he was currently with. The rest he could give fuck-all about. And Everly. He wouldn't do anything to hurt her again.

 _"…Stay straight, do what's asked of you, and don't think about me…"_

He remembered her words clear as day, and he didn't think he'd forget them anytime soon. They had cut him deep, partly because she was distancing herself more from him but mostly because she was thinking in his best interest. It showed how much she still cared for him; especially when _she_ apologized, when she said she didn't blame him for what he did, and how she wasn't even mad at him… It made Daryl feel like a giant jackass, and he sighed noisily, running a hand over his face again.

"If he starts hitting things, he's walking." Shawn shook his head.

"Daryl, just think of the objective." Alan reminded him. "We find Dr. Carson, we bring him back; preferably alive as per Negan's orders. I think he has something special in mind for the man."

"Yeah, I got it," Daryl replied softly, managing to reign in his choleric mood. He looked up at the gray sky. "If it starts rainin', though, we'll be in for a hell of a time."

"The fucker couldn't have gone far," Shawn said. "If he's not already dead, he's at Hilltop or nearly there. We'll get him."

"Let's hope so," Alan concluded as he gave Daryl a sideways glance. He and Shawn were relying heavily on him to find this guy, and if he couldn't, it would be all of their necks Negan went after. The two of them exchanged a nervous look as silence fell between them.

* * *

The ride was long, and after a good thirty minutes of Simon jamming out, Negan had turned down the radio to fill me in a bit on where we were going and what we were doing. We had three destinations, two of which were partitions from one big community the Saviors had stumbled upon a year ago and the last a fairly large populace of survivors in a town they dubbed the Kingdom. When the name of the last community left Negan's mouth, a jolt of anxiety shot had through me. I thought back to my first run with Dwight and what he had revealed to me, and I made a note to myself to examine as much as I could of the Kingdom and the two other territories when we arrived.

Additionally, I wanted to speak with someone who lived in each place to get a sense of their loyalty to the Saviors. I had to be careful and inconspicuous, though. Obviously, whoever I spoke with would need to see me as more trustworthy than the others, and I would need to get them alone somehow. I wasn't too worried about them blabbing to anyone because I was going to be as indistinct as possible, and I figured the younger the person was, the better.

"So, what was the point of splitting the first community up?" I tried to ask casually after mulling everything over. I'd had the whole day to think about it, and the more information I had on each area, the smoother the questioning process would be later on. Negan turned the radio down again.

"More communities equal more territory covered," Negan's deep voice filled the stifled space. He had Simon roll the windows up earlier as it started to drizzle. "And more territory covered means more people, more production, and more civili-fucking-zation. My guys network these groups, so every new person who comes in is introduced to a whole new way of life from the get-go."

"I'm unclear on what "new way of life" you could possibly be introducing them to. You make it sound like it's something to be desired," I stated flatly

"Isn't it? You've lived out there. Some people have as well, some of them haven't. But you did. You're telling me that if you stumbled across one of my many domains, you wouldn't be _overwhelmed_ at the possibility of living normally again, even if it meant giving a little in return?"

"I think "giving" and "a little" are the operatives words there. It's more than just giving. You take, Negan, whether anyone wants you to or not, and it's certainly a hell of a lot more than "a little." You take until people can't imagine not letting you strip them blind because it's their "new way of life." No one gives to you, so don't pretend like they do."

Negan sighed as he studied me, a bemused grin curling the corners of his lips. "That was a mighty fine, if not flawed and digressive, breakdown there, philosopher Everly, but you didn't answer the question."

"Yes, I would," I admitted because it was the plain truth. I had jumped at the opportunity to venture to Alexandria when Aaron showed himself and explained the circumstances. I had been willing to leave Rick and the others to go with him, not considering the reasons why they had been so apprehensive in the first place. It wasn't until Michonne explained it to me later in the safety of the house we all shared that first week that I understood Rick's hesitation.

"I thought so, and don't feel ashamed about that." Negan thumbed my cheek patronizingly. I gritted my teeth and wiped the skin he had touched, irritated.

"So, elaborate. What is the new way of life?"

"Welp," Simon butted in, "think of it this way, cupcake. We've got our city-state and our dependent territories. We got a whole basket load of them fuckers, and only one Big Daddy. What's the best way to take care of all your puppies when you only got one Big Daddy? Ya make some new, tier two leveled Daddies, place them in charge, and _those_ Daddies house train a significant, but smaller margin of the little shitters and turn them into well-oiled fightin' dogs. The rest do the day in and day out bullshit like," Simon sighed, flipping a hand in the air, "farming, cleaning, or wiping each other's asses. I don't know. They get shit done, in other words."

"Eloquently put, Simon," Negan complimented him with a chuckle.

"Nothing to it, Big Daddy," Simon thanked him, closing his eyes in a big grin.

"Every community you have is this way?" I wanted affirmation.

"Not all, but most," Negan answered.

"So, they're more like feudal states, but without the independence," I thought aloud; Negan didn't want vassalage from anyone, he wanted tribute. Take their eyes and voices, but leave them their hands and knees for payment and servitude. That was a tributary state.

"In a nutshell, Nosey Posey," Simon grabbed my thigh and squeezed it. "You sure are asking a lot of probing questions this morning. You looking for another promotion so soon?"

"No," I grumpily replied and smacked at Simon's hand. He took it off of me with a laugh.

"Whew, she's a feisty puppy! Watch out, Negan, she might bite ya if you get too close."

"I'm counting on it," Negan smirked down at me. He looked back to Simon. "Let's stop at the usual place. We've driven enough for today."

"Okie dokie," Simon agreed, grabbing the pager on a crudely mounted CB radio. He notified the other vehicles following us, letting them know of the plans.

"Where will we stay?" I asked Negan. I was starting to feel a little nervous about being out in the open again.

"We got a place a few ways down the road. It's our typical stop. And before you go and turn your hair gray, it's already been secured. You can sleep easy tonight." Negan used the hand he had slung behind me to pat my shoulder and then pulled me close. "If you want, you can bunk with me."

"Or me!" Simon volunteered and wagged his eyebrows at me.

"I'll be fine on my own," I declined, and pushed out of Negan's embrace.

"Suit yourself, but considering the weather, I'm betting the nights are gonna be pretty cold," Negan's voice held a tone of warning.

"Your nipples will get so hard they'll be able to cut diamonds." Simon widened his eyes, a look of mock terror on his face. Then he relaxed his features and a thoughtful, faraway look overtook his face. "Actually, I'd like to see that."

"You don't come near me," I pointed a strict finger at Simon. I turned to Negan. "And _you_ keep your comments and your hands to yourself!"

"I'll give it my all." Negan smiled, the hint of a lie clouding his eyes.

Not a few moments later, we pulled into a parking lot of a nondescript and isolated building, a bleached sign that read "Mattress Ware" the only indication of what it once was. Simon parked the truck in front of the doors, and the rest of the vehicles pulled in around us. I unbuckled my seatbelt as both Negan and Simon opened their doors, and I followed behind them as they jumped out. I examined the large building once my feet hit the ground and noticed it had no windows save for the front doors. The outside was ridged steel and looked as rectangular as a building block, at least two stories high. Surveying the perimeter, the woods were a few hundred feet back and the flat roof granted enough of a view to catch any surprises that might lurk there or on the road. I felt I would be safe here.

"Okay, everybody, let's unpack and unwind for a bit, get some grub. We'll stay here for the night and figure out shifts later." Negan rubbed his stomach. He pointed to a few Saviors who stood by a box truck. "Pull us out some dinner and make it quick. Big Daddy is starving!"

"Right away, Negan," one of them said, and they got to work.

"Oooh, dinner sounds nice. We pack any liquor with our rations?" Simon asked Negan and then he elbowed me in the side. I flinched, the contact tickling me. "I'm thinkin' of picklin' my liver after driving all damn day!"

"More like pickling your brain," Laura commented as she strode by, a bag on each shoulder and one in her hands. She looked pointedly at me. "You going to help at all or just stand there and look pretty?"

"Uuuh-" I stared after her as she walked away. I looked at Negan. "Help, I guess?"

Negan chuckled and handed me Lucille. "Find my dirty girl a safe place to rest her head. And make sure there's enough room for the three of us."

He walked off before I could ask him to clarify and I eyed the baseball bat in my hands. It was heavier than I thought it would be, and I was careful not to let a finger slip over the wires it was wrapped in.

"I think that means you're bunking with him after all," Simon's voice next to my ear startled me. I twirled to face him.

"I'm not bunking with anyone," I corrected.

"No, I think you are," he grinned and looked around the cracked parking lot. "And if it ain't Negan, it's gotta be somebody."

"Can I go in now?"

"What?" Simon looked behind him at the open doors. "Oh, yeah. Go on in, make yourself at home!"

"Great," I brushed past him.

"I'd suggest a king sized bed!" He yelled after me, loud enough for everyone to hear. "That way Negan can squeeze in on one side and me on the other! Make a nice Big Daddy sandwich!"

I shot him a dirty look over my shoulder and stepped through the door of my temporary home. The space inside was cavernous and dim, but it didn't take long for my eyes to adjust. Nearly the entire floor of the building was one open space set up to showcase various mattresses and bedroom sets. Years of disuse left it rather clean and there was only a faint mildew smell that lingered in the air; no pungent scent of the living dead at all. I attributed the last part to the padlock and chain I saw hanging from the front doors as I walked in; but no windows and walls made of steel and concrete helped, too.

I roamed around the dark warehouse, looking at the many pieces of furniture displayed on the sales floor. Faint light seeped through the doors, revealing amorphous shapes and shadows, and it was just enough to make out what I needed to. I wondered if nothing had happened two years before and everything was the way it was supposed to be which bedroom set I would have. Probably nothing that was in here. Knowing the hand life dealt me before, all I'd have was the mattress itself, and I'd be lucky if it came with only a few stains and half the springs still in it.

"This'll do." I tossed Lucille onto a large canopy bed, the wooden frame stained a dark color. It practically had Negan's name printed on it. "Nighty-night, asshole."

I ventured farther inside to find my own sleeping place and settled on a twin sized daybed buried in the corner behind two other sets. It was cozy and private which made it perfect for me. I flopped down on it, not caring too much about dinner but I did want my bag. The prospect of getting cleaned up was tempting, but I had a feeling the bathrooms here were inoperative. I sat up, determining if I could survive the night without it.

"Everly!" Negan's deep voice sing-songed nearby. I sighed.

"Over here," I called to him and waited for him to find me. He walked around the corner, looking around the darkness aimlessly, and I folded my arms, a smirk growing on my face for once as he searched for me. He threw out his arms as he circled around.

"It's not fucking nice to hide when someone is looking for you," Negan yelled out.

"I'm not hiding. You're just not very good at looking." I didn't want to reply, but pressing Negan's buttons wasn't what I wanted either.

He turned in the direction of my voice, and his large, dark form drifted toward me like a phantom. He stopped directly in front of me and I peered up at him, not able to see much through the gloom that filled the space between us.

"You're not thinking of sleeping here." His words came out more like a statement than a question.

"I was and I am."

"Funny," Negan replied. He reached a blind hand out, catching me in the face and then on the shoulder. I attempted to knock him away, but he grabbed my sleeve and pulled me up. "Stop being a fucking pain in the ass. You don't have to sleep in the same bed as me, but I want you close in case you decide to get brave."

"I won't," I promised as I struggled against him.

"I don't believe you," he breathed into my face and pulled me after him. "Laura's got your shit over here which she wasn't too happy about getting, but I agreed to give her tonight off for her generosity. You should thank her."

Negan shoved me against a bed next to the one Lucille lay on. We weren't too far from the front doors, so it was brighter and I saw his face more clearly. He didn't looked quite as amused as before, but not totally annoyed either. The bed he assigned me to was pushed back in a crowded space beside his, so any moving I'd have to do would be right by his head. He'd hear my every toss and rustle. He took off his jacket and lifted his shirt over his head. I averted my eyes, aghast.

"Is there a bathroom I could use?" I turned my back on him and pulled my bag that had been placed on my new bed toward me.

"There is, but if you want anything that requires water, you won't get it in here." He told me as he unzipped his own bag and riffled around in it.

"Is there any place around here that could be used as a bathroom?" I restated.

"There's a small river a few ways behind here," Negan spoke as he undressed. I closed my eyes, keeping myself facing away from him. "What? Are you afraid of a little man tits?"

"I'd rather not sully my innocence," I spat at him over my shoulder.

A sudden hand wrapped around my arm and I was spun around. I was met face to chest with Negan's mostly naked, muscular form, the darkening light bending around him to accentuate the outline of his broad shoulders. I didn't dare let my eyes travel any farther south, but his close proximity allowed me to see he still wore something on his hips out of my peripherals. I made eye contact with him instead.

"Am I allowed to venture down to the river by myself, Big Daddy?" I meant for the words to sound snarky, but the quick change in Negan's features told me I'd said the exact wrong thing.

"Holy fuck, say that again."

"No fucking way," I sneered, grabbing my bag on the bed and holding it to my chest.

Negan's raspy laugh had me snapping my eyes back up to his face again, and I felt my cheeks growing hot in embarrassment.

"I'll let you go to the river if you call me Big Daddy again," he compromised.

"Forget it," I shoved my bag on the floor and crawled onto the bed away from him. I lay down with my back to him once more to let him know the conversation was over.

"Well, good night then. If you get scared during the night," the bed dipped as Negan leaned on it and he whispered into my ear, "come get in bed with Big Daddy."

The bed sprung back to its natural state and I heard Negan redressing. I waited until his footsteps faded away before looking over my shoulder. He hadn't gone far. Everyone was gathering just inside the door to get their dinner for the night, and I spotted Simon with a bottle of something alcoholic in his hand, an expression of pure happiness etched on his face.

"If anyone touches me," I whispered the warning to myself. I rolled over and hung off the edge of the bed as I dug in my bag, retrieving my razor. I got under the covers and curled in on myself, the razor gripped tightly in my fist. "I'll shave off their eyebrows."

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Big shout out to my friend Turtle54! I realized while writing this chapter that I borrowed an important aspect from their story, so I gotta give them props for the inspiration. If you haven't stumbled across their story already, check it out. It's really good!**


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

"Fuck! This lug nut is on here tight," Shawn stressed as he fought to turn the lug wrench in his fists. Sweat poured down his forehead and Daryl felt the strain as much as Shawn did just by watching him.

"Gimme that," Daryl tapped Shawn's shoulder. The dark man let go of the wrench abruptly and fell back, take deep breaths.

"Don't give yourself a fucking heart attack," Alan kidded, but held out a hand to help him to his feet. Daryl took his place, trying to work the lug wrench in a circular motion.

"I know I've been packing on a few pounds, but that shit is like Thor's hammer. It's not moving anywhere," Shawn wiped his face with his shirt.

"And no damn wonder," Daryl said, ripping the lug wrench off of the lug. "The damn thing is rusted so bad, it's like it's glued on here. I thought you guys were s'posed to keep these things in workin' condition?"

"We do, but I guess this one got overlooked." Alan squatted down by Daryl and rubbed a finger on the lug. Rusty flakes fell off and stained his skin.

"Well, what now?" Shawn breathed.

"Hey, what's the fucking hold up? You pansy motherfuckers never change a tire before?" A long haired young man strode up, trying to look more important than he was.

"We're getting it, Jared. Just having difficulty with a nut. It's rusted on pretty good."

"Put some fucking muscle into it, hillbilly," Jared spoke down to Daryl and kicked his foot. "Use that crazy ass redneck strength, or do you need a needle for that shit?"

"Fuck off, would ya?" Alan straightened, blocking Daryl from Jared. "We'll have it changed and ready to go in ten minutes. If not, I'll let you have my dinner portions tonight. Deal?"

"Yeah, all right." Jared huffed at him. He snorted and spat on the road next to Alan's feet. He backed off, shooting Daryl one last dirty look.

Daryl shook his head and grabbed a combination wrench out of the tool box by the tire. He slammed it down on the lug nug, giving it a few good raps to hopefully loosen it some and also get his frustration out. If he didn't let out his pent up anger soon, he was worried he'd unleash it in the worse possible way. Imagining the nut was Jared's face helped some.

"Okay, that's enough," Alan told him, holding the lug wrench next to Daryl's head. Daryl dropped the combination wrench back in the tool box with a clatter, and yanked the other out of Alan's hand, shoving it onto the lug nut again.

"Thanks," Daryl said and Alan knew he meant for sticking up for him.

"No problem, but if you don't get that nut off soon, I'll be going to bed hungry tonight."

Daryl tugged at the wrench, trying not to use too much strength to avoid stripping the nut. It started to move a little, but not as much as he was wanting. He stood up and put his foot onto it, using the strength of his legs to bump it down. Finally, it gave way and he was able to unscrew it off the whole way.

"Thank you, Jesus," Shawn expressed, his hands in the air. He dropped down by Daryl and helped him finish, jacking the truck up and pulling the tire off.

"Hey! Hey!"

A distant voice had everyone to their feet, guns and knives at the ready. They took a step back and converged on the road, looking around for the person of which the voice was coming from. Daryl grabbed up the lug wrench again at the sound of the shout. He wasn't entirely trustworthy of a gun or knife by Gavin's standards just yet.

"Help me!" They voice called more loudly and a head appeared over the hill in front of them. He screamed again and waved his arms. "They're after me!"

"Hold it right there!" Gavin yelled. Everyone had their weapons aimed at the man, but he kept running toward them.

"They're alive! They're coming!" The man's voice was pure terror, and he stumbled and fell as he came over the hill. He scrambled to his feet again, even as Gavin, Jared, and David advanced on him with their weapons drawn.

"I said stop!" Gavin yelled at the distressed man once more, but he was too horrorstruck to hear or listen. Gavin pulled the trigger, hitting the guy square in the chest.

The man fell hard into the asphalt face first, but he was still alive. He reached a weak hand out and started to drag himself forward, kicking at the road underneath him.

"Please," he whimpered, tears streaming down his dirty face. "Don't let them get me. I don't want to be one of them."

"One of the dead?" Jared sneered at him. "You'll be one soon enough."

"No!" He wailed, holding up a hand. "They're demons. They're alive! I can't be one of them!"

"Man, this guy is batshit crazy," David said. "What the fuck are you on?"

"They spoke to me. They were speaking to _each other_! Don't let them near you! They'll take your souls!"

"Gavin, waste this guy." David shook his head and Gavin pulled the trigger again. This time, his bullet met the man in the head and he finally lay silent.

"What the fuck was that?" Shawn asked Alan and Daryl as they watched the three men pick through the fallen one's pockets.

"Hell if I know, but he seemed pretty spooked," Alan answered. "Quick, let's get this tire on so we can get out of here. I'm kind of freaked out myself."

"Yeah, no kidding," Shawn agreed. "I didn't sign up for no freaky shit."

"Help us out, Dixon," Alan called, but Daryl couldn't tear his eyes away from the dead man.

What had he seen? What was chasing him and would they be coming after them next? Daryl felt the goose pimples rise on his arms as David and Jared carried the man to the side of the road and threw him in a ditch. The man had yelled out that "they" spoke to him, that they were speaking to each other. Who could he have meant? And how many of them were there?

"Dixon!"

"I'm comin'," Daryl said.

Later on that night as he lay staring at the dark sky with sleep a foreign stranger, Daryl thought about his day and how Everly was doing. His stomach twisted in knots at the thought of her, and he felt bile hit the back of his throat when his mind switched focus to Negan. He swallowed hard, breathing deeply in a desperate attempt to clear his mind.

Daryl thought about the dead man and his wild, incoherent warnings. He had been so frightened as he scrambled over the hill, seeking the help from the likes of Negan's Saviors; the ones who were, and had been, the least likely to aide him. In a flash, Daryl's fist hit the ground next to him with a painful thump, and he wondered if he'd meet the same horrible things the flailing man had ranted on about. And as thoughts of Everly and Negan invaded his mind again, he kind of wished he would.

* * *

Dwight drove down the empty road, the clouds hanging over his head like a lowering ceiling. He felt he could be crushed by it at any second, but he persisted and throttled the engine as the gate of Alexandria came into view. This could be a mistake. One that could put his head on the chopping block if he didn't play his cards right, or it could be the change that everyone needed. He and Sherry had agreed this was something that had to be done, and the sooner he threw himself out there, the faster the hell he'd been living in for the better part of the year would finally be over; whether he made it out alive or not.

He slowed to a stop, parking parallel to the gate that shielded the people who lived fearfully oppressed behind it. He swung himself off of the bike, and waved to the woman who stood above the gate watching him disdainfully.

"Why are you here?" She yelled down at him.

"I'm here to see Rick."

She looked him over and then scanned nervous eyes down the road. When she saw that it was empty, she looked down at him again and leaned over the steel wall that barricaded the town.

"What purpose are you here for? Why are you alone?"

"That can all be answered once I speak with Rick," Dwight answered. "I won't waste his time. I promise."

"Who is it, Tara?"

A voice asked from behind the gate. Suddenly, it began to shutter open and Dwight was met with the man he'd travelled all morning to see.

"Rick," Dwight greeted the man.

Rick stopped short as the gate was pulled all the way open, a small group of Alexandrian's forming behind him. He examined Dwight and then the road just like the woman named Tara had. He looked just as suspicious, if not a little upset, to see who his surprise visitor was.

"Dwight," Rick addressed him. "To what do I owe this…unwarranted visit?"

Dwight smiled and laughed, looking down at his feet. He had left the compound after Negan that morning, making sure that the time between his own departure and Negan's wouldn't catch any suspecting eyes or raise any questions. He was risking a lot to be here, having no excuse at all. He just hoped it would be worth it all.

"Unwarranted it may seem," Dwight began, meeting Rick's gaze, "but I think I might have something to share with you that you'll be interested in."

"What? Like those lies you told my boy?" Rick's mouth turned down into a scowl. "I know all about them. And before you go any further, I want to let you know that you and Negan are wasting your time."

"Negan isn't involved in this." Dwight responded. He looked at the people gathered around their leader and recognized a few. This was his one shot and he figured getting his plan out in the open in front of all of them would do. If he couldn't convince them now, then it would all be over before it even begun.

"No, he is. He is very much involved in everything, and I'm telling you now, I will kill you where you stand and make it look like an accident if you don't turn around and leave."

Ignoring the obviously empty threat, Dwight flicked his sights to Carl who stood a few feet behind his father. "Did you speak with Jesus?"

"No one has spoken to anybody about anything! That is not a conversation that has existed nor will it ever!" Rick yelled, growing irate.

"But it has…," Dwight decided to go straight to the heart of the matter. It was now or never. "I heard it. I heard you, Daryl, and Everly talking about making plans. You want to fight. You want to be free. And here I stand, giving you the opportunity but you're refusing to listen."

Rick sniffed and looked down at the ground. His voice was quieter. "I told you to leave."

"I know who I am. I know what I've done, and I'm telling _you_ now…that that is not who I want to be anymore. I haven't wanted to be this person for a while, but I stuck with it to survive." Dwight shook his head, throwing his hands out in defeat. "I can't do it any longer. I want Negan gone and dead just as much as you do. You need people. You need guns. I can help with all of that. You just have to give me the chance."

"The chance to shove us face-first into the ground and make us bite the curb. Are you hearing this asshole, Rick?" Rosita stepped out from the small crowd, defensive and angry.

"Stop," Rick held up a hand, looking slightly behind his shoulder at her.

"I want to give you guys the chance to fight." Dwight amended. He needed to make them see. "It was you against us from the very beginning and it still is, but I've come to realize that I'm on the wrong team. I don't know what I can do to make you believe that. All I have are my words and the truth that lies behind them. I'm risking my life by coming here and offering this to you."

"Oh, you are such a lying sack of shit!" Rosita screamed, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Don't trust him, Rick," Tara chimed in, her voice carrying as much hurt and anger as Rosita's. "He killed Denise. He took Daryl and Everly away from us. He will always be one of them!"

"Stop!" Rick called out and took a deep breath. He ran his hands down his face, inhaling deeply and then walked up to Dwight so that he was right in front of him, eye level. "Let's say I believe you. Believe that you want to get rid of Negan and are willing to help in doing that. How would it even work?"

Rick temples throbbed with an upcoming headache. This was his compromise, for his son and his people. He would hear Dwight out and take in what he had to say, but he wasn't going to agree to anything until he knew everything was foolproof and he had all of his ducks in a row. The odds against him were too great and the consequences too perilous to gamble with.

"The Kingdom," Dwight stated simply. "It's a large community that's been taken over by Negan, but as you would guess, morale there is low. The people there are beginning to resist, but cover it with compliance…for now. I can speak with their leader, convince him to fight-"

"Convince him just like you're convincing me?" Rick questioned with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "And what would this kingdom have to offer?"

"The Kingdom," Dwight corrected.

"The Kingdom, whatever," Rick sighed, annoyed. He was aware of the Kingdom and King Ezekiel, but he didn't want Dwight to know that. "If Negan is in control of this place, then they are probably in about the same position as us. Defenseless, cornered, and scared. The two of us wouldn't even make a dent in Negan's army _if_ that was something we wanted to do."

"It is what you want to do, and there's more. The Hilltop, Somerset-" Dwight wanted to list off the communities he knew would rise against Negan if given the courage and the means to do so, but Rick interrupted him before he could finish, shaking his head and holding up a hand.

"See, this is where I can't trust you. You say you have resources, that you'll get us situated, but for what? To die? You're wantin' me to bet on a losing hand, and I'm not going to do it. Have you even talked to anyone else? Thought out logistics? Organized a plan? Strategized exactly how we're gonna get weapons in our hands to be able to even attempt this thing?" Rick shook his head again and laughed coldly. "Naw, I ain't buyin' it… Now, I'm gonna count to three, and if you aren't on your motorcycle by the time I'm done, I'll deliver your head to Negan myself."

Dwight stared hard at Rick, mustering the dignity to turn around and walk away with nothing. He forced a short laugh. "No, you won't…because that would be exactly the wrong thing to do."

Rick narrowed his eyes as Dwight turned his back on him and straddled his motorcycle. He reached for the key and twisted, kicking the kickstand up as the engine roared to life. He looked back to Rick one last time, casting a meaningful glance around the people behind him.

"I want to help. I'll do what I can to make you understand that. And if you want to win, you'll believe me."

The motorcycle rumbled boisterously as Dwight sped away and disappeared around the corner. Rick turned around to his group, hands on his hips and a look of concern on his face.

"We can't trust him," Michonne spoke up.

"What choice do we have?" Carl asked, circling in place to look around at everyone. "If we're gonna have any chance at all, Dwight might be it. We know Gregory is a yellow belly, but Maggie has Hilltop mostly under her control. And Jesus can help us with the others. The Kingdom and Somerset, or whatever Dwight was talking about. We can do it. We just have to plan it together."

"Carl has a point," Aaron noted.

"And there's also Oceanside," Tara piped in now, looking around sheepishly. Everyone turned to her. "The place I visited when…when all of this started. They had guns. Lots of them. They're terrified of Negan, but if we can get them to help us, it'd be a running start."

"Not to mention the explosions we found," Rosita added. She was slowly coming around to the idea. "I guess it's worth a shot to get at that dickless bastard, Negan."

"Dad, please," Carl begged him, eye pleading. "Let's go see Jesus and see what he has to say."

Rick surveyed his people, studied their faces and wondered if this was going to be the worst decision of his life. He took a deep breath. "Is everyone in agreement? Are we gonna try this thing?"

A series of yeses were issued from the tiny crowd, some more reluctant than others, but it seemed everyone was onboard. This was it. They were finally going all in. This was going to be the first day of the rest of their lives.

* * *

"Oh, gross," I complained, stopping short of stepping into the eviscerated belly of a decaying corpse.

"You wanna take the giblets and I'll get the liver?" Simon poked his head over my shoulder and observed the carcass below.

I slowly glanced at him with stony eyes. "No."

"Well, if you ain't gonna make use of it, little lady, let's get the show on the road. Pull down them trousers and let Mother Nature fly!"

"If you would be so kind, Simon, as to fuck off!" I roared at him, stepping over the dead body and walking farther into the woods.

"Just 'cause you can say it doesn't mean you should, sugar plum," he called after me. "Words can hurt feelings, you know."

"Somehow I doubt that you have any," I responded.

"Now they really are hurt," he said as I ducked next to a bush and pine tree, concealing myself. "Hey, line of sight!"

"You are _not_ watching me, Simon. I'm right fucking here!" I yelled back annoyed, and hurriedly did my business, scanning the wooded area for anyone or anything that might, in fact, be watching me there.

"Hey, there's another one over here!" Simon informed me, his voice closer. I heard some shuffling coming from my left as I finished and stood up. I put my back against the tree and I pulled my pants up and fastened them. I started round the trunk.

"Get i- AAHH!"

A walker stood in front of me, its glassy eyes half melted and what was left of its rotting skin hung loosely from the tattered corpse. I put out my hands out to keep it away as it fell forward and I skipped backward, trying to avoid it. Its face hit my chest and a sudden spark of terror ripped through me as its teeth grazed my jacket, but it continued to fall and lay limp on the forest floor. Simon's deep, rumbling laugh caught my attention as I worked to catch my breath, a hand held against my chest.

"You fucking asshole!" I screamed, wanting to hit him badly.

He continued to laugh as I stomped past him and back to the road where the others were enjoying a break and eating their lunch.

"What? That was funny," he chuckled and walked behind me. When I ignored him, he came up swiftly next to me and draped a strong arm around my neck. "Oh, come on. Don't be such a wet blanket. I was just goofin' with ya."

I shoved his arm off of me as we came in view of the road. "Get away from me."

"What? The dead guy just wanted a look-see!" Simon playfully scoffed behind me as we broke through the trees and stepped onto the road. "Negan, this babysitting bullshit isn't as fun as I thought it would be. She wouldn't even let me watch."

"Dammit, Simon. What'd ya do now?" Negan asked with a smile as I stalked past him. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Whoa, now. Chill."

"He shoved a walker corpse on me," I explained furiously. Negan looked at Simon, still amused but feigning concern for me.

"A live one?"

"Well, no, but that's not the point," I stammered, flustered.

"I thought it was funny." Simon shrugged and scratched his chin, clearly holding back a grin.

"Oooh, I get it. When you were out there poppin' a squat, you fell on a stick and it went up your ass, huh?" Negan smirked down at me, and I yanked my arm out of his hand.

"You shoved a dead fucker's corpse on her while she was taking a piss?" Lydia asked a now openly smiling Simon. She laughed. "You're fucking sick."

The group of them began to laugh and that's when I had enough. I didn't come on this trip to play childish games or be made a mockery of. Not that I had much choice in that respect, but I still had an agenda and tailgating with the lousy fucks who kept me against my will wasn't part of it. I pushed past Negan who was stoic and silent and wove between the vehicles, finding the one I rode in with him and Simon. I jumped into the cabin and slammed the door behind me, feeling bent and embarrassed and for no damn good reason.

There was a rap on the door that I had just escaped through and it creaked open, revealing Negan who adorned a sympathetic smile.

"Can I join you?"

I shrugged my shoulders and flipped him an eye-roll. He could do whatever the hell he wanted; he didn't need to ask me. Taking my curbed response as confirmation, he climbed up in the cabin next to me, situating himself behind the steering wheel and shutting the door. He rested Lucille on the dashboard, her wires gleaming dully in the wan daylight beneath the windshield, and turned to me.

"You okay?"

I glared threateningly at him. He was quite aware of how I felt at the moment and it certainly was not 'okay'. He let out a stiff sigh and scooted father down in his seat, leaning his head back on the headrest and clasping his fingers in his lap where he twiddled his thumbs.

"I mean, you know they're a bunch of asshole, right? That didn't suddenly become apparent to you out there just now, did it?" Negan creased his brows at me, and I lifted one of mine at him. He smiled. "Don't be childish. It's unattractive."

 _Is that so?_ I had just stumbled upon an unmarked treasure. I crossed my arms, and shifted in my seat to face away from him, curling one leg on the seat in front of me so I was more comfortable as I glared out of the passenger side window. Negan's sonorous laugh vibrated around my head and I heard him shift behind me followed by the release of the door lock as he opened it. I closed my eyes in relief.

"Follow me," he said and tugged on the sleeve of my jacket.

"What?"

"Get your tight, uppity ass out of the truck and follow me," he repeated as I swiveled to look at him. He was already out of the truck with Lucille in hand. "Don't make me repeat myself for a third time, Everly."

Reluctantly, I slid over the seats to him and jumped out of the truck, my feet landing right in front of his. He gently smiled down at me as I stepped to the side and he shut the truck door. Calling over his shoulder, he told the group to be ready to leave in twenty minutes. That in the meantime, he and I were going to take a walk and let off some steam.

"I got a pack of rubbers in my bag if you need one or two!" Simon generously offered.

Negan chuckled and shook his head, waving his hand in the air as we walked down the road. "We're good, thank you!"

"Child rearing is dangerous nowadays! You kids don't wanna get stuck with a disaster like that, now would you? For the love of God, think of the child, dammit!" He called to our retreating backs; it was followed by a rumpus of giggles and chatter.

I sighed soundly through my nose. "I'm really hoping one day that I get to punch him in the fucking face."

"Now that's an admission if I ever heard one," Negan beamed. He swung Lucille in the air beside him cheerfully. "What you need is a little aerobic therapy. You are strung up _tight_. Perhaps a little too tight for my liking," he winked, "and I think once you free yourself up a bit, get those bottled up emotions out instead of locking them inside, you'll feel ten times better."

I snorted. "What did you have in mind?"

He stopped, placing Lucille on his shoulder and she stuck out behind him on the other side of his head, a silent omen. He indicated to the woods behind me with his gloved hand and smiled.

"I can't wait to see this."

Negan slipped an arm around my shoulders and guided me into the brush, the canopy of trees causing the day to seem darker. He let out a long, high whistle and peered at me stealthily from the corner of his eyes, a smirk growing on him.

I dipped my eyebrows at him, not entirely catching onto what he had planned, and my anxiety began to grow. I stumbled, a vine catching my ankle, but Negan's arm held onto my shoulder tightly and he steadied me. Then the gnashing hiss of walkers drifted through the trees, and we saw them stumbling laboriously toward us. Negan let out another whistle and slipped Lucille from his shoulder.

He held her up to me.

"What?" I looked from him to the bat, wanting clarification before I took her in my hands.

"My dirty girl and I are in an open relationship." Negan unhooked his arm from my shoulder and took my right hand and wrapped it around the base of his beloved bat. "I _do_ tend to get jealous, so don't keep her from me for too long. And go easy on her. She does like a rough ride, but I tend to get nervous when she's with inexperienced players."

"Uh," I muttered and cycled my confusion between him, Lucille, and the approaching walkers. Then it hit. He was giving her to me to swing out my frustrations. I examined the bat in my hands, studied the wood, admired the varnish, and tremored at the barbed-wire that decorated it. "This doesn't feel right."

"It will once you get started. Don't think about what you're doing. Just go out there and fucking do it."

"You killed my friends with this." I stared numbly up at him feeling ill knowing what I held was once covered in their blood.

"I did." He nodded, the smile dropping from his face a bit. "But you can redeem her. Redeem yourself."

He pushed my shoulder gently and I turned to face the walkers. There were five of them spaced out far enough that I confidently felt I'd be able to take them down without being bitten, but the risk was always there. Would Negan have my back if I became overwhelmed?

 _Yes_ , the answer was automatic in my head. My grip on the bat hardened.

"You better make me better," I spoke to Lucille, and stepped forward.

The first one snarled at me with a toothy, lipless smile, throwing out groping claws. And I swung. I threw Lucille back and shot her forward with as much strength I could muster. The monster in front of me staggered backwards, a large dent now caving in the left side of its head, and it fell to the ground to lie still in a bed of green leaves and pine needles.

A surge of ardor projected through me, hitting me like a missile. All the rage, all the hurt, it bubbled to the surface, and now it was blowing over the edge and spewing down the sides. I rushed at the next one, yelling as I arched Lucille upwards and hit the walker in the jaw.

The bottom half of its face shattered in a gooey mess, a gaping hole where its mouth used to be. It caught its balance as it stumbled back, nearly falling, and its white dead eyes locked on me again like a laser; but I was there, and I was ready. I hit it again, catching it against the ear this time. Lucille ripped its gelatinous skin off, a trail of dark red sludge trailing behind her arc. She met the walker face-first again, bringing it down permanently, and it slumped over, crumpled head in the dirt and ass in the air. I kicked it over on its side and advanced on the last three.

I was a ball of fury now; a storm in the darkening haze and lighting the sky on fire with my screams and smolder. And Lucille, she helped me smother the pain and weakness, employing control in my hands. She was a beacon and I was wielding her power.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Hey, guys. I want to share something personal with you because it might effect my update next week. One of my puppers passed away this past Monday, and it was completely unexpected and quick. I've been pretty bummed and stressed out about it, and I haven't been able to concentrate on one thing for too long all week.**

 **I will say that writing the last few paragraphs of this chapter was actually a bit cathartic for me. It helped me get out a little bit of the anger I feel over losing her. Maybe I can continue to channel it positively in my writing. If I don't get a chapter out next week, I'll try hard to post one the Friday after if not sooner. I won't leave you guys hanging.**

 **As always, thank you for your reviews, especially those I can't respond to privately.** **You all make me happy.**


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

"And we have arrived!" Simon spoke above the music, turning the rumbling truck down a dirt path.

We rode up to a small gated area, the perimeter surrounded by a combination of brick, mortar and wood. Simon halted the truck in front of the gate, popping open his door to yell out to the men keeping watch. He sat back in his seat and shifted the gear into drive as the gate began to slowly open.

"Park near Merrit's. I wanna speak with her first," Negan told Simon as we pulled inside.

"Right-o, boss." Simon followed Negan's instructions, parking near a large ranch-style house.

"What is this place called again?" I asked, not directing the question to either man in particular.

"This glorious palace is Somergrove. The subset of the larger community Somerset," Simon answered as he pushed open his door. "How about you use those pretty peepers of yours and stop asking so many damn questions. I know you've got a brain."

"Asshole," I mumbled as Negan chuckled and Simon hopped out of the truck, yelling for someone to "beer" him.

Negan took hold of my wrist as he stepped down from the cabin, dragging me after him. He grabbed my hip as I jumped down and I pushed his hand away the instant my boots touched the ground.

"I'm fine, thank you." I avoided his gaze and attempted to take some of the temper out of my voice. He gave me a smile in return and leaned to grab something out of the truck, trapping me against it in the process with his chest pushing mine.

"My dirty girl needs a bath," Negan said as he pulled out Lucille, holding her in the air beside us. "And since you're the one who got her all wet with biter blood, you're going to wash her off. I trust you'll be gentle and clean her real good for me."

I observed the bat and all the gore that hung off of it. I had gone wild, pulverizing walker bodies with Negan's bat and enjoyed it. I didn't want to admit that I had. I felt guilty; like I did something shameful and dirty. But I _did_ feel better. The constant ache in my chest had lightened for the few moments when I used Lucille, and I forgot who I was, where I was, and all that have happened to me. In that time, I was only a vessel of stifled emotions and my one goal was to set them all free.

I took the wooden bat from Negan's gloved hand, our fingers brushing as I wrapped mine around Lucille's hilt. Our eyes met, his shining bronze in the lowering sun, and I blinked, looking away self-consciously.

"Where do you want me to wash it off?" I asked and gazed around the small settlement. I still felt Negan's chest, his leather jacket just barely touching mine.

"To the south, there's a large pond. You can wash her off there."

He backed away from me, dimples dressing his cheeks, and winked as he sauntered off.

I filled my lungs up with air, grasping for control of my limbs. The feeling of the soft grain of Lucille in my hands sparked some sense into me, and I circled around the truck, looking for the pond Negan had mentioned. I saw it sitting below a hill with a small boat and two children inside, fishing. To the right sprawled an expansive orchard just beyond the Somergrove walls, the tops of the uniform trees swaying in an early evening zephyr. My throat clutched when I tried to swallow, and as I walked to the pond, I made an effort to analyze the encounter I just had with Negan.

 _What the fuck was that?_ I asked myself.

 _Nothing. That was nothing. You're just feeling grateful. He helped you. He's being kind._ An inner voice responded.

 _He is not kind, and he does not help those who don't benefit him in the end._ I argued.

 _More than likely, or you could just be seeing that soft side Sherry mentioned._ The inner voice countered.

"Oh, fuck you," I muttered to myself as I neared the pond's edge.

"Excuse me?" A small, but offended voice spoke from my right.

"What?" I spun to face the person in question, and saw a teenage girl. Her dirty blond hair was tied back, a braid falling over her left shoulder, and she carried two large basket loads of produce; one in her arms and the other strapped to her back and waist.

"You cursed at me, ma'am, but all I was doing was trying to deliver these to your trucks."

Her cerulean blue eyes were soft, but suspicion and acrimony were held behind them. She hiked one knee up, pushing the bottom of the basket and adjusted her grip.

"Oh, no," I smiled awkwardly. "I was talking to myself. I-I didn't even see you there. I'm sorry."

She stopped struggling with the basket in her arms and looked me deadpan in the eyes. She measured me head to toe and eyed Lucille in my hand before flicking her gaze to the group of people up the hill behind me. Then her brows narrowed.

"Okay," she sighed and gazed at the pond briefly. "I'm sorry for offending you. If you'd like, I can offer you something else, maybe some new clothes, to make up for whatever it was that I did wrong."

"Uuuh," I stammered as she began to struggle with the basket again.

"May I deliver these, ma'am? They're very heavy, and I need to look after my little brothers."

"Uh, here," I dropped Lucille and offered my hands. "Let me help."

I grabbed the bottom of the wicker sides and attempted to pull the basket into my arms, but the girl held on. Her blue eyes were wide, staring at me incredulously.

"What?" I asked again, not sure what I did wrong this time.

"You're just going to leave… _it_ …there?" She stole a glance at the grass by my feet and I followed her eyes. Lucille lay prone on the ground, bloodied and abandoned.

"Oh…shit. Uh," I looked back and forth between her and the bat. "You know what? It's fine. It's just a bat. I'll get it when we're done with this."

The girls eyes suddenly turned doubtful again, and she held fast onto the basket, turning her body to the slightly to the side.

"Thank you for the kind offer, but I can manage."

"Trevor!" A petulant voice carried over the water and the girl whipped her head to the source.

On the pond, the two boys were in the boat, one sitting in the bow and the other standing and struggling to reel in a fish.

"Hey! Sit down, Trevor!" The girl called out.

"Are they your brothers?" I asked her as we both watched the bigger of the two boys struggling with his fishing pole.

"Yes." Her worried gaze flitted to me momentarily. "I know it's just a pond, but ponds can still be deep, and you never know what's in them. I'm afraid of them falling in."

"They can't swim?"

"They can swim fine," she answered hastily, then sighed. "I don't ever let them get near the water without me usually."

"Are you…? Where are your parents?" I questioned. I wanted to know more about this girl. I thought being interested in her history would get her to open up to me, trust me more.

"They're gone. You should know that," her tone was accusatory.

"I…wasn't sure."

The triumphant yells of the two boys as the oldest reeled in a big fish caught our attention. They were pumping their fists in the air and rocking the boat in their excitement, their high, delighted voices mingling together.

"You idiots. Sit down!" The girl yelled at them, and the two boys sat immediately, but their self-satisfied grins were still apparent on their little faces.

"How old are they?" I asked.

The girl gave me a sideways look. "Eight and six."

"Oh, cute," I smiled, and pang of loss ripped at my heart. I bit my bottom lip as it started to quiver. "I'm sorry you lost your parents."

"I only lost one," the girl faced me now and studied me. "My mother is still alive, but she's at the other settlement, Somerset. My father…died when we were split up."

Her blue eyes found the baseball bat in the grass and I realized instantly that Lucille was the cause.

"Here." I motioned for the basket again, and the girl reluctantly handed it over, but the hate that heated her eyes seemed to fade a bit.

"Thank you," she said, and wiped her free, sweaty hands on her pants.

"It's no problem," I smiled. "Did that happen to a lot of families? You know…being split up?"

"Yeah," her eyes fired up again, but they remained curious. "Merrit says it's how we stay smart, learn to follow the rules and avoid meeting _her_."

She pointed down at Lucille, and I nodded my understanding. I looked at the ripened fruit in the basket. It was heavy as hell, and I was quite impressed with the small girl in front of me for carrying it as far as she did.

"Merrit runs this place?" I asked, hoping to change the subject a little.

"Yeah, she used to live with all of us back at Somerset, but she offered to come here and run things."

"Negan knew her?"

"No, but she earned his trust quickly. Merrit isn't the kind of person you get in the way of. She's very unyielding."

"Then I'm surprised she gave into Negan when he came."

"I'm not," the girl snorted. "She might be bossy, but she's still a follower when someone who has more authority than her comes along. She's a brownnoser. And really, none of us were given the choice."

Her porcelain face turned sad then and she gazed back out over the pond to watch her brothers. I shifted the basket in my hands; it seemed to be growing heavier by the second.

"You're different," she said, turning back to me. "Why?"

My mouth moved to find the right words. "Let's just say…I was split up from my family, too, and I wasn't given a choice either."

"What's your-" she started to speak, but a splash from the pond interrupted her. We both wheeled to face the pond. There was only one boy in the boat now.

"Jason!" The girl struggled with the straps of the basket that was tied to her shoulders and waist.

"Mason?" I whispered, my heart stopping.

The basket fell from my hands as I flew at an all out sprint to the water, ripping my jacket off and letting it fly out of my hands behind me. I hit the small dock at a rapid speed, my boots pounding on the deteriorating wood as I rushed down and dived into the water.

It was cold, and my hands hit the muck at the bottom a few feet in, but it was still deep. Deep enough for a child to drown in. I pushed off of the pond floor and broke its surface, inhaling a lung full of air and then frantically paddling toward the boat. My legs were burning, my boots heavy and my once injured ankle starting to ache. It felt like I was swimming through mud as I struggled to reach the boys.

"Where did he go in?" I yelled breathlessly at the little boy named Trevor as I neared him.

"Over there!" He pointed to a spot opposite the side of the boat I was on, and I rushed around, making out the top of a little blonde head going under the water.

"Jason!" I heard their sister's cries on the bank behind me.

I dove under the water, swimming in the direction of the boy. I reached out my groping hands and kept my eyes open, trying to see as much as I could through the murky waters, but I couldn't find him.

I went up for air and searched the surface again, looking for any signs of where he might be. A few bubbles to my left ascended to the water and I submerged myself again, moving in that direction. And I found him, ghostly and sinking down to the bottom.

I grabbed his shirt, yanking him to my chest as I wrapped one arm under both of his and swam for the top. We came up, me gasping and him still and silent against me, his head resting limply on my shoulder.

"Oh no." I heard Trevor whimpering from the boat.

I turned Jason around, putting his back to my chest as I lay back on the water and swam backwards to the small boat.

"Pull him in!" I instructed Trevor, and he grabbed his little brother's hands, straining to drag him in. I pushed on Jason's legs, helping to get him inside of the boat.

I stretched out my legs, trying to find purchase on the bottom of the pond the boost myself inside as well, but the water was much deeper here. Instead, I kicked my legs as hard as I could and pulled, trying not to flip the tiny craft. I barely managed to get in before it started to roll over, Trevor screaming and holding onto the opposite edge. I caught Jason by the shirt as he started to slip out and steadied the boat, the sides buoying back and forth in the water.

I sat up and laid Jason on his back by my feet. I grabbed the paddles, yelling for Trevor to sit, and rowed us back to the dock as fast as I could. I watched Jason, looking for any sign of life from him. His lips were turning blue, his chest motionless, and his skin was paling quickly.

"Please, don't be too late," I begged, and the boat hit the dock.

We were surrounded by a flurry of people, arms and hands a blur around me as Jason was taken from the boat. I watched with abated breath as an older man laid him flat on the dock and started chest compressions. Everything seemed utterly hushed, the wet sucking noise coming from Jason's chest the only sound I could hear as his head rolled lifelessly back and forth.

"Come on!" The older man growled as he continued to work on him.

A gush of water sprayed from the boy's mouth, and the man turned him on his side, hitting his back as what seemed like an endless amount of water left him. I took in a shaky breath as Jason started coughing and then crying.

His sister rushed forward, falling to her knees in front of him and gathering him up in her arms. They were both crying now, a huddle of tears and murmured reassurances. Trevor fell in behind them, joining in on the relief.

"Let's move him to the infirmary," the older man whispered to the girl, and the group that had formed around the dock dispersed as the four of them moved to a series of small buildings by the ranch-styled house.

I stayed in the boat, fighting the urge to break down and looking for the strength to stand on my own. My limbs were weak; shaking as the adrenaline slowly left my system. And below the cover of ease at saving Jason was the darkness where I bled and agonized over the one I had lost and couldn't save.

Powerful hands gripped my upper arms, drawing me from the boat and onto the flimsy dock. I shivered, feeling leather under my palms and smelt a musky scent that I was beginning to become too familiar with. Gazing up, I saw Negan examining my features, the setting sun casting a burning glaze in his eyes again. I thought he was angry with me for leaving Lucille, but the words he spoke caught me off guard.

"You alright?" Negan asked, dipping down to look me in the eye. He let me go, his fingers moving to the zipper of his jacket and stripping it off of his shoulders to wrap around mine, his scent now fully enveloping me.

"Yeah," I whispered, surprised at his gesture. I looked cautiously up the bank to where Lucille lay prone in the grass, a tumble of fruit scattered around her head from where I had dropped the basket. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave it."

"Yeah, you did, but I'll let you get away with it this one time. Don't fucking let it happen again."

I mustered the courage to look him in the face and saw him smiling at me. He didn't look upset at all.

"I would tell you to move your ass and clean her up like you said you would, but you're a hot damn mess." He eyed my figure, peeling away the edges of his jacket to look inside. "Get some dry clothes on. Preferably ones that aren't see-through."

I yanked the jacket from his fingers, clutching it against my soaked chest. I walked down the dock to fetch my bag from the truck, and Negan followed after me with a chuckle.

"I'll bring it back to you when I'm done changing," I spoke over my shoulder.

"Or I could get it after I'm done helping you change," he suggested.

I twirled to face him, anger taking over sorrow. "Are you really going to be that insensitive right now? I know you aren't the epitome of compassion and you'd rather crack shitty jokes than pretend to give a damn, but can you just spare one measly ounce of decency for once. A child nearly drowned. He almost died, and-"

My breath caught in my throat, the image of Mason drenched and blue on the docks vivid in my mind. The tears burned my eyes and I squeezed them shut to get rid of his gray and bloated face, already wanting to pick up Lucille and forget again. And who would I hit? Negan? Simon? The rest of their snarling doggies they boasted about? Or would I find a way to use it for myself and give Negan a reason to brandish her against me?

I snatched the bat off of the ground, holding it tightly in both of my hands and pointed it at him. It shook in my hands, the water from my adventitious swim slicking my palms and fingers, and the sudden idea of chucking it into the pond crossed my mind like a little devil on my shoulder.

 _Do it_ , a voice urged as I glanced at the water. _Do it and whatever happens after happens._

Negan speculated me and as I stood stock-still aiming the soiled bat at him like a dagger, the corners of his mouth turned down and the hint of a glare was a blossoming stain on his features.

"Everly," his deep baritone was a warning, and he held a hand out as he took a step toward me. I took a step back. "Be rational. I made a tasteless joke, it was a mistake. I'm fucking sorry."

"No, you're not."

"Truly, I am." Negan attempted to smile, but the irritation he felt quickly washed it away, and he started gradually edging toward me. I moved away, not entirely sure what my plan was going to be and before I could form an indication of one, my foot landed on something hard and round, and I was tripping backward.

Negan was quick, grabbing my wrists and yanking me up before I hit the ground, tearing Lucille from my grasp and crushing my arms to my sides as he held me against him. His jacket had fallen off of me in the tussle, and my soaked shirt was now dampening his.

"That was a big fucking mistake," he whispered menacingly down at me, and I dug my nails into his chest in an attempt to push him away. He barely moved an inch.

"Hey, Merrit! I think two someones need to borrow a room for a few minutes!" Simon's voice drifted down the hill. "You think you two can make it behind closed doors or should everyone just look the other way?"

"We're fine," Negan answered, his tone not amused in the least with Simon's antics this time.

We glared at each other, and I wondered what Negan was waiting for, why he hadn't thrown me to the ground and started bashing my head in yet. The way he was looking at me, it seemed like he very much wanted to do so.

"You just lost an ass-load of privileges," he spoke.

"No." The lonely cell, my first home in the Sanctuary, came to mind.

"Yes!" He bellowed in my face, his nose almost touching mine. "I was all for forgiving you the first goddamn time, but the moment you pointed my girl at me was when you lost it."

"I'm sorry," I whispered sheepishly. I needed to turn this around. Losing Negan's trust was the exact opposite of what I was supposed to be doing. "I… The boy… He reminded me of my little brother. And I just got angry. I'm sorry."

I topped it off with a remorseful pout, sending wide eyes up at him. It didn't seem to work as he remained cross, his compressing hold continuing to crowd me into him and his glare denying. He lifted Lucille who occupied his right hand in the air, and I figured this was it; this was where he was going to end the misery once and for all.

"She needs to be cleaned," was all he said, and he let go of my arms.

He held Lucille out to me, the front of his clothes about as wet as mine. And he was still furious with me. It was evident in how he glowered, his tall form rigid and tense and his mood impatient. I gently took the bat from his hands, not wanting to look him in the eye anymore, and walked back down to the water's edge. I stepped in a few ways, not really caring about my boots anymore because they were already ruined, and I cleaned Lucille the best that I could.

When she was a soft shade of yellow again, no longer stained red and brown from the rotten chunks of flesh now floating in the water instead of ringing her crown, I shuffled back to Negan, offering her to him cleansed and restored. He took her from my hands and pointed at his fallen jacket.

"Pick it up," he demanded.

And I obeyed, grabbing it from the ground and holding it out to him. He walked up to me and ignored the jacket in my outstretched hand, taking the damp fabric of my shirt between his fingers instead. He caressed it, water welling onto his fingertips and down his wrists.

"It's still see-through," he stated simply, and I looked down at myself, seeing the black, ratty bra I wore underneath. "Should I make you walk in front of all those people up there just like this, or should I be the nice fucking guy that I am and let you borrow my jacket again?"

I swallowed. "You should be a nice fucking guy."

A smirk grew on his face, the hard lines of aggravation disappearing. Relief spread in my chest at the sight. I never thought I'd be happier to see him smile at me and I almost smiled in return.

"Then put the damn thing on, C.J. Parker."

I did, slipping my arms through the sleeves this time and breathing in Negan's scent that emanated from it. I found it eerily comforting, and I wasn't sure if it was because it covered my torso completely, the leather large and baggy as it hung off of my frame, or if I was being conditioned to appreciate the small amounts of kindness that Negan had been showing me recently.

"Thank you." I found my manners, wanting to stay on this good side of him for now.

"You're welcome," he smiled sincerely, but grabbed my arm forcefully and put his mouth to my ear. "But I'm not done with you yet. Broken rules still have consequences and just because you can give me a pretty look, bat those long eyelashes and utter a half-assed apology does not mean you don't have to pay them."

He pulled away, staring down at me in eerie benevolence and loosening the cramping cinch he had on my arm.

"Go get cleaned up. We head out in thirty."

* * *

"Hey, y'all," Maggie smiled as a small band of her former group came through the Hilltop gates. She took off her gardening gloves and adjusted Glenn's ball cap on her head. Hurrying over to them, she hugged them each in turn. "What has you guys stoppin' by?"

"Hey, Maggie," Rick greeted her back. "Just wanted to visit, see how things are holdin' up here. Maybe have a private discussion with you and Jesus sans Gregory."

"I think I can arrange that," Maggie said, eyeing her old friends. Along with Rick, Carl, Michonne, Aaron, Tara, Eugene, and Rosita were also present. "This ain't no family emergency, is it?"

"Close enough. We should probably hurry it up before it gets too late," Rick replied.

"All right. Follow me." Maggie waved her gloves at them to follow and led them inside the old colonial museum.

"Have the Saviors been by recently?" Rick asked as they made it inside the open foyer.

"They stopped by last week. Should be due for another visit in the next day or two."

Rick and Michonne exchanged a look, knowing that if they Saviors decided to show up while they were there, they'd be screwed. Rick had been on edge with everyone coming with him. He wanted to go alone, maybe bringing Michonne or Carl with him, but the others had insisted on joining them. A larger group of them would have a harder time remaining unseen if Negan's brainless bandwagon came cavorting through the doors at any second.

"We'll be fast, then," Michonne offered, giving the others in the group a knowing stare.

"That'd probably be for the best, but if anyone does happen to show up, they wouldn't have much reason to go around lookin'. Nothing here has changed much," Maggie said, trying to ease any apprehension. "I usually just stay up in the library when they come by. They get what they want and move on."

"Let's hope that'll be the case if they do come knocking," Rick replied.

"This way," Maggie nodded to a set of double doors. "We'll use Gregory's office. You guys get situated while I find Jesus. Shouldn't take me a moment."

"Gregory won't interrupt?" Tara questioned.

"How serious is this?" Maggive furrowed her brows and look around everyone's anxious faces. She lowered her voice, "Are we talking operation overthrow, here?"

"Pretty serious, and yes," Rick informed her. "We're finally gonna follow through on our plan to get rid of Negan. We might have a way in now."

"You found a way _in_?"

"We're still working on the specifics. That's why we're here, but yes."

"Okay, well," Maggie shook her head, taking all of what Rick said in. "Gregory's takin' his afternoon nap. Never seen the man miss it for anything. He'll be preoccupied long after we're done, I'm sure."

"That sounds about heavenly, right now," Eugene spoke up, his large cheeks red and sweating. "Wouldn't mind a mid-afternoon snooze myself, or a glass of tepid water, if that could be sufficed."

Everyone gave him an incredulous look and Eugene shrugged his shoulders, asking them, "What?"

"Really?" Tara asked him. "You're gonna make the pregnant woman fetch you some water when this _very_ important meeting could be cut short at any minute?"

"Well, I certainly don't know where some is to acquire it myself, and I'd go searchin', but I wouldn't want to snoop the coop and stick my nose where it don't belong."

Michonne rolled her eyes.

"I'll get you some water, Eugene," Maggie grinned and then gestured to the study doors. "Make yourselves at home. I'll be back in a jiffy."

"Thank you kindly, Maggie." Eugene nodded and headed to the doors.

Rick held out a hand for everyone to precede him, taking a look around before walking inside himself and shutting the doors. What he failed to see was Gregory hiding behind a corner on the second floor.

The insipid man hadn't been able to sleep, his legs were too restless and his insecurities keeping him awake; that's why he needed a nap in the first place because he couldn't sleep at night either. He decided to make himself a cup of tea with a dash of something harder, hoping that would make him drowsy and quell the bothersome thoughts in his mind, but what he unexpectedly overheard was much more interesting. And now he was eager to hear more.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Thank you to my guest reviewer. I was starting to think no one liked Ch. 33, ha.**

 **Also, there's a video on youtube entitled "Origins of Negan". It's apparently a sneak peek of season 8 if anyone is interested in looking that up.**


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

"So, what's this 'way in' you were talking about?" Maggie asked as she set Eugene's glass of water down beside him. She leaned against Gregory's desk as Jesus shut the door behind himself.

"A way in? Into the Sanctuary?" Jesus quirked an eyebrow at Rick.

"Yeah, in a manner of speaking," Rick said. "We had a visitor yesterday. It was one of Negan's men, Dwight. He said he wanted to help us, knew we had be plannin' somethin', and he started going on about Hilltop, the Kingdom, and some place called Somerset."

"Yeah, I know Somerset," Jesus nodded, looking beyond the bodies in the room and out the large windows to the front yard. He turned a curious gaze back to Rick. "Dwight came to you? Alone?"

"Yeah, but he talked to me first," Carl piped in, stepping up and looking at his dad shyly. "I sneaked into the Sanctuary, spent the night there."

"You what!" Maggie asked him unbelievingly.

"It was stupid, I know!" Carl agreed with everyone's silent judgments. "I went to try to kill Negan and get Daryl and Everly back, but that didn't quite go as planned."

"Yeah, no shit," Maggie cursed at him, baffled but also relieved. "You could've gotten yourself killed."

"I know, I know," Carl sighed heavily, looking away from her scornful gaze.

"What Carl is failin' to tell you is that Dwight first approached him durin' his time there," Rick said, feeling just as guilty as his son. If he'd been watching him more closely, Carl would never have been in that predicament in the first place. "He told him about several communities that'd be willing to form a mutiny against Negan as well as some people at his dwelling that would easily turn against the son of a bitch. My first instinct was not to believe jack shit from the asshole, but then he shows up at our doors out of nowhere by himself. He told me the same things Carl mentioned."

"You know, and you guys might think I'm full of shit when I say this, but I saw this coming," Jesus said, crossing his arms pensively.

"How exactly did you surmise that?" Rosita spoke from over her shoulder. She was keeping watch on the gates through the window.

"I know a bit about Dwight's history. That scar on his face? Negan gave him that when he, his wife, and his wife's sister decided to make a break for it and run," Jesus started to pace, taking one step forward before turning and stepping back to where he started. "They came here for asylum, at least for a day or two, but Gregory refused. He didn't want to get caught in the cross-hairs. When we saw him a few weeks later… Well, anyone could guess what happened."

"Okay, so Dwight has a motive," Rick reasoned, his faith in the man of topic rising a bit.

"Negan also took his wife," Jesus revealed.

"Oh, shit," Tara remarked and Rosita curled her lip, mumbling insults about Negan under her breath.

"Okay, so Dwight is our way in _if_ we are trusting of him?" Maggie was connecting the dots and looking to Rick for confirmation.

"He hasn't quite given much of a reason for us to accept his trust yet, but I have a feelin' we might need to just take it," Rick replied.

"Then what?" Maggie continued. "He finds a way to prove himself, but we have no weapons. I'm not entirely sure how many people here would be willin' to fight - and even if everyone does that still isn't a lot compared to Negan's numbers."

"No, but that's where the Kingdom and Somerset come in," Rick gestured to Jesus, silently asking if he had any more information about these places.

"I think King Ezekiel could be into it," Jesus nodded his head. "As far as Somerset goes, I'm not so sure. I know Negan has one of the originals running a partition of the community."

"Partition?" Michonne questioned.

"Yeah," Jesus nodded. "When he took Somerset over, he split up all the families and sent the kids to an orchard about ten miles away called Somergrove. He's got them farming while the parents stayed behind in Somerset to learn how to fight more than just the dead. It's his own little training facility, and the adults will fight for him because he's basically got their kids hostage. Any new people he takes in," Jesus paused and shrugged. "Well, they're just new recruits."

"Jesus," Maggie shook her head. "Do you think they'd revolt? Fight against him?"

"There's no way to tell for sure, but I think our best bet is to hit Somergrove first. Now, I'm not sure what direction you would want to take that in," Jesus looked Rick in the eyes now, holding out a hand palm up. "On one side you could release them, connect them with their parents, but there's no telling if they'd stick around or would want to risk fighting against Negan. On the other," the scout sighed and made a fist, "we hold their kids hostage and make them fight for us."

"I don't know about that," Tara shook her head.

"It's not about decency anymore, it's about winning our lives back. Once all of this is over, they'll understand that," Jesus tried to reason, but it sounded like he didn't believe it himself. "We'll make amends. Let them choose to stay or leave."

"Can I interject my two cents in this deliberation?" Eugene inquired from the antique sofa he sat on, his glass of water now empty. Everyone turned expectant eyes on him. "If I'm not mistaken, intimidation and marauding is what got us here in the first place. I'm not sayin' by our hands, but by the steel cuffs of Negan. We might have started the whole charade, but he would've shown up on our doorstep in time, that is with certainty."

"What's your point, Eugene?" Rosita asked him impatiently.

"The point I'm tryin' to make is that we can't expect to win if we act like him." Eugene looked at Jesus now. "I understand your reasonin', but it would not due to take innocent children hostage to leverage their parents to our benefit. They need to make the choice just as we'll be fightin' for the liberty to make one on our own again."

Rick smiled. "That's a very good point, Eugene."

Jesus nodded, whispering a 'yeah' in compliance. He didn't like the idea of using force to build an army, but the trepidation he felt building up inside of him had his thoughts irrational.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suggest that we do anything unsavory," Jesus apologized.

"No need for apologies, man," Rick put a hand on his shoulder. "We're just talkin' this through right now. Nothin' is set in stone."

Rick stepped back, looking at everyone in the room before settling on Tara. "You think we can get Oceanside with us? Use their weapons?"

"It's possible, but I think we'll have a fight on our hands," Tara glanced at Jesus. "Natania, the woman who leads it, doesn't take too kindly to strangers, and she certainly wouldn't want to get involved."

"Think she can be convinced?" Michonne asked and Tara shrugged.

"Guys, we got company!" Rosita called from the window.

Just then, a series of shouts and the roaring of engines emanated from the front of the yard. Rick rushed to peer out the window and saw a few of Negan's Saviors pull through the gates. This was exactly what he was afraid of happening.

"Shit!" He cursed, and turned to face everyone. "We need to hide."

"Everyone, this way!" Maggie waved them to a small door at the far back corner of the room. She led them through a short corridor and into a kitchen, past a set of curious faces and out a back door. "Carl and Rosita, there's broken lattice under that trailer. Hide there. Tara and Eugene, get in the cellar. I'll come get you when they're gone."

They all rushed to their hiding spots as Maggie pointed them out, no one needing to be told twice. Maggie faced Rick and Michonne, and led them around the backs of some trailers near to the front yard.

"What're we doing?" Michonne whispered harshly. She wanted to hide from the Saviors, not get closer to them.

"Shh," Maggie whispered. This was the typical group of guys that came by to collect from them, but they were a bit early. She had a feeling their visit was for something else and wanted to see why. She also thought it would be important for Rick and Michonne to witness it firsthand with her.

"Maggie," Rick's tone was anxious.

"It's okay, Rick. You see that wooden container there?" Maggie nodded to a deep looking bin next to the log walls. Michonne and Rick shook their heads in affirmation. "If need be, we'll hide there. It's empty right now and the left side opens like a door. It'll be easy to get into."

Rick looked at Michonne to see if she was okay with this plan and she shrugged her shoulders, her eyes saying, _I guess_. The three of them peered stealthily from the side of the trailer.

"Where's Harlan?" A long-haired Savior yelled as Gregory came stumbling down the mansion steps.

"Well, good afternoon, Jared. What brings y'all here?" Gregory greeted them.

"I said, where's the doc?" Jared got into Gregory's face, and an older Savior stepped forward, pushing on Jared's chest.

"Hi, Gregory," the man greeted him back. "We're looking for Dr. Carson. Any way we can speak with him?"

"Well, I don't see why not, Gavin," Gregory smiled. He glanced over his shoulder at Jesus who stood on the porch steps, communicating with him to bring Harlan outside. He turned back to the Saviors in front of him. "Is everything okay? Did something happen to…Emmett?"

"You tell us, asshole," Jared demanded.

"We're all fine, Gregory. We just have some questions for the doctor if you don't mind," Gavin said and indicated to the group behind him to start searching.

"Whoa, what's this all about?" Gregory asked as the Saviors marched off, flipping things over and kicking in trailer doors.

"We're looking for Emmett Carson, but I have a feeling you already knew that."

Maggie turned to face Rick and Michonne. Hiding wasn't going to be so easy for any of them now. They huddled behind the trailer, Rick still keeping a look out, and continued to listen to the conversation.

"Gavin, I swear," Gregory pleaded with an apologetic smile. "I have no inkling of what you're talking about."

"Jared," Gavin sniffed, taking a step back.

Jared stepped up and socked Gregory in the stomach once, a self-satisfied grin spreading on the young man's face. Gregory struggled to draw in air as he bent down to his knees. Rick and the two women pressed further against the trailer as couple of Saviors stomped up, slamming in the door and rummaging around inside.

"We need to move," Michonne whispered.

"Quick," Maggie whispered, and led them carefully to the back of the house again. Hiding in the wooden bin wouldn't do now.

Maggie watched the windows of the mansion and saw activity in each one by Negan's men. They couldn't go back in the house. She started to worry about Eugene and Tara who hid in the cellar. The Saviors would scour every inch of the place looking for Harlan's brother.

"You guys get under the trailer with Rosita and Carl," Maggie said to the two behind her. "I've got to get Tara and Eugene."

She didn't wait for a response as she rushed off toward the cellar doors, not wanting to waste a second lest they be discovered before she could reach them. She was wracking her brain on where else they could hide as she opened the cellar doors and stepped down inside.

Rick and Michonne rushed to the broken lattice. Michonne took off her sword to hold it in her hand as she lied flat to crawl under the confining space. Rick peered under the trailer after a quick look around and told her to stay with Rosita and Carl. He was going to watch the rest of this unfold.

"Rick!" Michonne hissed at him.

"I love you," he said, looking both her and Carl in the eye before shooting off around the trailers again.

He quietly flattened himself against the side of a trailer as he came upon two Saviors digging through the bin Maggie had suggested they use as a hiding space before. Once he heard their rummaging cease, he cautiously peeped past the edge and saw they were gone. Rick took up the spot he, Maggie, and Michonne had before, whipping his head back and forth to make sure he wasn't surprised by any unwanted company.

He squatted low to the ground and counted the second until Negan's search party regrouped themselves. Sweat started to pool under his arms and run down his back. He kept a nervous eye on the people crowded in front of the house, Dr. Harlan Carson being one of them. The doctor looked around worriedly as Gregory gingerly got back to his feet, the Savior who allowed the attack looking bored as his men ravaged the home of the people who surrounded him.

"This would go much faster if one of you would just tell us where he is," Gavin told Gregory and Harlan.

"I told you," Gregory gasped and held onto his stomach, unable to stand up straight, "I don't know what you're talking about. Emmett is not here."

"We'll see," Gavin nodded, and a few remaining men joined their commander.

When no one drug out a scared and cowering Dr. Emmett Carson, Gavin gave Gregory and Harlan a long, searching look. He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth, putting his hands on his hips impatiently as he waited for one of the men to confess Emmett's whereabouts, but both men simply stood there and stared, puzzlement governing their faces.

"Okay," Gavin said, throwing his hands up in surrender. "You don't have him. Fine… But we will find him. And when we do, it won't just be his head Negan is after if it turns out you had any part in harboring him; that much I can guarantee you."

Gavin surveyed his men as he tried to determine his next steps. He had sent part of his caravan to a small town that sat about 20 miles below Hilltop. It was a good spot for someone to hide out or rest if they knew certain people were looking for them. That was where Negan presumed Carson may be if he wasn't already at Hilltop or dead. Considering his absence at his original community, Gavin could cross that off of his list for now.

"Donovan, Troy, Terry. You three will stay here with Jared to make sure Emmett is in fact not sulking around here somewhere. If he happens show up before we return, try to keep him alive and come to us." Gavin faced the Hilltop colonists now, a short smile crossing his features, "The rest of you all can make sure my guys are nice and cozy. Until we meet again…"

Gavin brought two fingers to his forehead in a farewell salute. Rick watched him and his travelling brigade climb into their vehicles and leave. Jared and the three remaining Saviors took up post around and inside the Hilltop mansion. Rick sighed, closing his eyes and hoping for some sort of respite because this day couldn't possibly get worse. Or so he imagined.

* * *

Daryl walked through the windy, deserted streets, keeping his ears alert and eyes peeled for any source of sound or movement. He and Negan's men were exploring the abandoned town and looking for any signs of the missing doctor. So far, the search yielded nothing which left Daryl unsurprised and disgruntled. He was cognizant of how fruitless the prospect of finding Dr. Carson alive, or at all, was and he felt stupid even putting in the effort to find the guy. He was doing so nonetheless, and Daryl gritted his teeth as the hunting knife he carried glistened in his anxiously twitching hand.

 _Where are ya at, ya bastard?_ Daryl thought as a harsh gust of air blew his hair in his eyes. He wanted this done and over with. More importantly, he didn't want to give Negan a reason to be upset with him if he blundered locating the fleeing man. It was more than his life he had to worry about, and even if Everly wasn't an equation in the outcome of a failed mission, she would still be impacted by the repercussions.

"You spot anything?" Alan asked Daryl as he came up behind him.

"Shh," Daryl shushed him, roving his eyes back and forth over the road, looking for anything suspect. He didn't spot shit.

"At least there isn't any dead jumbling about," Shawn said and rotated his shoulders as if getting ready for a fight.

Daryl glanced behind him at the two men. "If y'all are gonna follow me, shut the hell up and keep lookin' 'round."

"Whatever you say, master hunter," Shawn exhaled in a whisper but he began scrutinizing more of his surroundings and silently questioning any oddities he saw.

"Over there," Alan whispered, using his index finger to indicate something to the far left. "I thought I saw something move."

Daryl examined the direction Alan was pointing but he failed to notice anything that interested him. He suggested Alan go look himself to which the larger man agreed and set off sneakily in that direction. Daryl snorted, knowing his friend wasn't going to find anything other than the wind or the dead; he could get lucky, though.

"Check that building," Daryl nodded his head to the right. "The doors are ajar. It's possible someone or somethin' could be inside of there."

"Aw, hell," Shawn drew in a deep breath and sidled up to the doors, peering left and right before stepping inside. Daryl kept moving.

 _Concentrate, Daryl. Where would a desperate man go if wild hogs haven't eaten him by now?_

Anywhere. Anywhere safe; which once again alluded to the possibility of finding the doctor being nearly impossible because "anywhere safe" was almost nowhere at all. Daryl trekked on, holding onto that sliver of false hope that he or someone else would stumble upon the missing man.

 _EEEERRRRK! BANG!_

Daryl whipped to his right and rushed down a street in direction of the noise. Pressing against the mortar of a brick building, he peered over the corner. A door was flapping lazily in the wind down a littered alleyway. He edge into the mouth of the alley, observing the undulating door and listening for any other sounds under its high pitched creak. Nothing immediate stood out, but Daryl found it peculiar that the door could produce this much noise and not have walkers drawn to it; couple that with the doors inability to latch and it had to mean it was broken open rather recently. And seeing as he was the only one to venture in this direction of the town, it was no one from his group.

He moved forward cautiously, glancing back and forth between the opening of the alleyway in front and behind him. He didn't think there would be an ambush, but shittier and crazier things had happened to him in the past two and half years. If it wasn't Carson that was here, it was somebody else, and Daryl prepared himself for that fact.

As he got closer to the door, Daryl stayed clear of its entrance, not wanting anyone or anything inside to see him just yet. He shifted his weight down, bending his knees and hunching forward to get a glance inside. It was too dark and Daryl could only see a few feet past the threshold; nothing but tile, dirt and a few stationary shapes scattered around. He wouldn't be able to look in from the other side as the banging door would obscure his view of anything past it.

Instead, Daryl decided to go for it. He shifted forward and shot past the rushing door as it slammed and jolted behind him, the light shifting as it opened and closed. He didn't have a flashlight on him, but as he wandered further in his eyes began to adjust to the dim light that seeped in from broken windows and the screaming door behind him.

He was in an old department store, racks of bundled and scattered clothing surrounding him. The place smelled of mildew and mold, a faint rotten stench reaching his nostrils from somewhere deeper in the store. It could either be from the living dead or the dead dead; either way, he wasn't curious about it and wanted to get back outside.

 _You gotta look around first, man._

"Fuck," Daryl mumbled as the door continued to screech behind him like a warning. He wasn't going to find anything in here but trouble.

The hunting knife was held out before him, guiding his way as he coursed through the myriad of debris and forgotten merchandise. He found the source of the pungent smell at the front of the department, a decaying deer carcass so badly eroded that he could only make out what it used to be based on the leftover bones. He moved away from it, keeping his mouth and nose covered until he arrived at the back of the store.

He looked to his left, then right, but seeing nothing of great significance, the desire to pursue either direction rapidly dwindled until he heard a noise. It accumulated from the back left corner of the building, the scurrying sound of something struggling to drag itself across the laminate floor a faint signal. Daryl crept around clothing racks, bending down to scope the stained ground. He saw the sole of a shoe as it disappeared around the corner of a far shelf about 30 feet away, and Daryl bolted up, his eyes wild as they swept over the area. He circled around quietly, not wanting to go directly to the unknown person. He didn't know if there were more or what they had on them, but whoever _was_ here knew that he was, too. And they were scared and hiding. That lent Daryl a bit of an advantage.

"Please, don't kill me! I'm sorry! I swear! Please!" A masculine voice reached out to him.

"Show yourself!" Daryl demanded, bringing his knife up and tightening his grip. He started to take slow steps forward.

"I don't want to die," the voice moaned, obvious pain lacing the plea.

"Come out and you won't have to!" Daryl called again.

"I can't move well. I think I've broken my leg," the veiled man reasoned.

"Don't make me come and get ya."

Daryl heard a resigned sigh then the sound of shifted weight and groans as the man began to drag himself from around his hiding spot. He was tall, thin, a balding man of middle age. It was Dr. Emmett Carson.

"Stay there," Daryl warned as the doctor drug himself into viewing.

"Please, don't hurt me," Carson attempted to raise his hands. He looked like high hell with dirt and muck covering him from head to toe, his cheeks and eyes sunken in. He practically resembled the walking dead that he might as well be one.

"I'm not gonna kill ya, ya dipshit. Got anything on you?"

"No," Carson forlornly shook his head. "Are you with Negan? Are you going to take me back to him?"

Daryl nodded.

"Oh no," the doctor whimpered as spit dribbled out of his trembling lips and onto his chin. He began to cry. "Oh no, no, no, no, no."

"I'm sorry," Daryl apologized sincerely, lowering the knife in his hand. He would let them man go if he could, but it was him or the doctor, and Daryl chose himself.

"I had to. They were coming," Carson turned eyes dilated in terror onto him. "They were whispering…to me," the doctor muttered through broken sobs, his lips wet and wriggling like worms. "They told me that I was going to _rot_."

"Who did?" Daryl dared to ask, the memory of the incoherent man from the road surfacing to the forefront of his mind.

"The dead."

* * *

I rummaged through my bag, pulling out a change of clothes before stripping my soaked ones off. I didn't know where to put them, so I let them plop to the floor as I hurriedly dressed. I was zipping up my jeans, my gray-blue t-shirt waiting for me on the bed when there was an easy, but firm knock on the door.

"Just a minute," I yelled, grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head.

I grabbed the knob, closing my eyes for a brief second to rein in any disparaging emotions that festered under the calm I attempt to impress on myself. I opened the door with a neutral demeanor and met a face I didn't recognize.

"Hello," the woman said politely with a brilliant smile following suit. "I'm Merrit. May I come in?"

"Uh, sure," I stammered and nodded. It was her house.

She stepped past me, her slender frame tall but well built. She had very dark skin, so dark that her complexion was nearly flawless and it seemed a smooth, luminous as polished granite. She laughed when I continued to stare.

"I know. It's like looking into a coffin at midnight, right?"

"Oh no!" I held up apologetic hands. "You're just very beautiful. I didn't mean to stare."

"It's okay, and thank you," she smiled and inclined her head to the open door behind me.

I shut it, and she held out a friendly hand to me. I took it and her skin _was_ a smooth as it looked. I was deeply envious.

"I wanted to introduce myself. You're a new face and after that prodigious act of heroism, I had to meet you before you departed."

"Oh, well," I blushed sheepishly. "I was acting on instinct. Anyone else would've done the same."

"No, they wouldn't have. Not any of Negan's men," she shook her head, becoming serious. "What's your name?"

"Everly."

"It's very nice to meet you, Everly." Her curious, dark eyes analyzed me. "How'd you come to affiliate yourself with Negan?"

"Coercion," I remarked truthfully. Merrit nodded her head and quirked an eyebrow.

"That shouldn't come as any surprise," she released a short, sour laugh. "What made you do it?"

"Huh?" I asked.

"Rescue that little boy. Why'd you do it?" Her tone changed slightly. It was less friendly now and more probing.

"Because I had to," I answered honestly. What more was there to it?

Merrit took her time to gaze at me, her eyes just as piercing and intimidating as Negan's. The girl's earlier descriptions of the woman before me had initially seemed embellished, but I was getting a glimpse of the actual person she knew.

"Call me curious, but that doesn't seem like a good enough reason. Not for a stranger."

"What other reason would I have?"

"Enlighten me," Merrit shrugged.

"I'm sorry," I began, feeling confused and more than a little offended. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," she shook her head simply, her stare unwavering. "I'm just trying to get to know you."

"To what end?"

"To mine." Merrit paused as I considering her meaning and we watched each other. "Who were you with before you joined Negan?"

"A group of survivors like myself," I answered vaguely.

"And where is this group located?"

"Why does that matter to you?"

"Like I said," Merrit shrugged benignly, "I desire the knowledge."

I crossed my arms, communicating with her that I was becoming uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation. I didn't know what she was after or what plan she had in mind, but I didn't appreciate the extra trouble.

"I think I should get back down stairs. I'm sure Negan is waiting for me."

I went to grab my wet clothes off the floor, but Merrit's legs blocked my way. I straightened up and met her penetratingly shrewd gaze once more.

"I want to thank you for what you did for this community today, Everly. It's not often one gets to see such overtly selfless acts like what I witnessed from you. It's rare," Merrit dipped her head at me in appreciation. "And if there comes a time when you need to move on from your current circumstances, I'm inclined to help."

"Alexandria," I whispered, going against every instinct in my gut, but her words swayed me.

"Is that a person?" Merrit asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She knew it wasn't.

"A place," I clarified anyway. "My home."

"Thank you again, Everly," she smiled, squeezing the tops of my arms in both of her hands and left.

I stood there for a second more, boggled at who I just met and the random ass conversation we had. Did I just make a friend or did I dig the hole I was already neck deep in that much deeper? I'd find out eventually, one way or the other.

I collected my belongings, throwing my bag and Negan's jacket over my shoulder as I carried my wet clothing in my hands. And I was essentially barefoot. I didn't want to wear my boots until they had dried. Wearing them now was like walking in mini pools shaped specifically for my feet which made the skin very sensitive. I chose to adorn my wrinkled feet in socks instead.

Once outside, I went to the truck to throw my belongings in the bed, but it was chock full of food and other items. I noticed the wicker baskets filled with fruit, legumes, and fish; fish from the boy who almost lost his life to catch them.

"You feeling better?" Negan came up beside me and leaned against the truck.

"Yes," I forced myself to say. I couldn't look at him.

"Go ahead and throw your shit up there," he spoke, the crunch and smell of an apple filling the temporary silence. "Find a spot for yourself too. I'd suggest one in the middle; less chances of falling out on your ass if we hit any bumps."

He held the apple up to my face, offering me a bite. I looked at him then, feeling those disparaging emotion poking through the delicate shroud of cool acquiescence they hid behind. I shook my head and handed him his jacket. He accepted it from me with a grin, taking another bite of his snack as I threw my stuff into the truck bed and climbing inside after.

"Roll out!" Negan called. "Merrit, as always, it's been a pleasure seeing your gorgeous-as-hell face. I look forward to pestering the shit out of you to come home with me every time I get the chance to spend time with your sweet ass."

"And I look forward to declining the invitation at every opportunity," she smiled sweetly at him and then imperceptibly caught my eye. "Take care."

"One day!" He promised her as she went inside the house and closed the door. Negan shook his head with a smirk and turned to Simon. "Fucking tease."

Simon laughed and they both climbed into the cabin of the truck. Simon opened the rear window to speak to me. "Hold on tight, buttercup. It might be a bumpy ass ride! I know the sun is setting and all, but it still is pretty hot. If you wanna take off your shirt to cool down, neither one of us will mind. The trick is to face forward, though, to get more air."

"I'm going to fucking kill you," I whispered to myself and scooted down into the bed as I turned my back to the cabin.

The truck shook under me as Simon started the ignition and revved the engine. He backed up suddenly, causing me to pitch forward when he slammed on the brakes and I nearly toppled a basket of food as I used it to catch myself. I quickly sat up and righted the basket, muttering raging curses under my breath.

"Oops!" Simon yelled and turned on the radio as he drove to the exit, the bass and lyrics a battle cry. I could hear him singing as we left Somergrove's gates. " _Mother, tell your children not to walk my way, tell your children not to hear my words, what they mean, what they say, Mother!_ "

The song synced almost too perfectly with who was singing it that it was hardly coincidental. This was a taunt, and whether it was for me, the people of Somergrove, or both, I understood the point. As always, Negan was full of reminders, and this one told me that he and his Saviors were going to do what they wanted and no amount of pleading or reasoning could change their minds.

" _Not about to see your light, but if you want to find hell with me, I can show you what it's like, till you're bleeding!_ "

Not unless they were forced to. And in the end, whose hell would I open my tired, sore eyes to see?

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **So, who watched "Origins of Negan"? The show is definitely going to make things interesting. It's curious to see the difference between the show and comics.**

 **Thank you to my guest reviewer! I get people are busy and don't have a lot of time to read/review, but I'm happy you guys still stop by when you can. :)**

 **Song is _Mother_ by Danzig.**


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

"They wanted me! They were after me! I had to!"

Dr. Carson's screams emanated from the back of the van he was locked in. He had begged and pleaded with Daryl the whole tedious way through the town to his group, hanging on Daryl's neck as he limped and cried - he hadn't wanted to run, he hadn't want anyone else to get hurt or killed. He wanted to be safe, to live, and the only way he could have those two things were to run. So he did.

"Shut up!" One Savior yelled, kicking the back door of the van. The cries slackened, but they didn't diminish; pathetic whimpering pleas taking their place.

"We're going to meet Gavin at Hilltop. They were on their way here when I radioed in, so he isn't too pleased with the wasted time. Let's get a move on."

David directed everyone and got into the driver seat of the van carting Emmett Carson, and Daryl gave its locked back door one last apologetic look before getting into his own transport.

"You ready to drive?" Alan asked him from the driver's seat.

"Naw," Daryl shook his head.

He had too much on his mind to concentrate on dodging debris and the occasional wandering walker on the road. He was a little unnerved, too, and the shiver that ran up his spine at the doctor's whispered revelation hadn't ceased. It was an incessant pulse over his back that prickled his skin and left him restless inside. He bobbed his knee to get rid of the anxious energy that balled in his chest like a malicious tumor, but it didn't do much to help.

"Whadya think's gonna happen to him?" Daryl asked.

Shawn glanced back at him from the passenger seat. "Your guess is as good as mine, man. And I think we can all take a pretty fucking good one."

"The guy is scared shitless," Alan pondered. He was trying to figure out what it all meant, just like Daryl was.

"That don't mean a damn thing when it comes to Negan," Shawn replied. "Actually, I think it butters his fucking bread more than anything."

"Hmm," Alan responded, but the conversation died there.

 _The dead_ , Daryl mused. What did that mean? Carson hadn't really been able to explain himself when Daryl pressed him further. The older man had broken down sobbing uncontrollably as the hunter drug him outside, and the only phrases he'd uttered thereafter were ones of mercy. Whatever he'd seen, real or imagined, had messed him up, but Daryl thought it was more than a coincidence that both the doctor and a complete stranger could hallucinate the same things. But what truth could there be to it? The dead were somehow alive, sentient, and conversing with the living? It severed the last lingering connection he had left of the world he and countless others had lost after the turn.

Guilt weighed him down as they drove over the abandoned roads to Hilltop. He didn't want to be a part of what Negan was and it was painful to bear; to know he'd taken his name and masked himself with it to do what he was told. Daryl had to remind himself that even if they hadn't found Dr. Carson, he probably would've died anyway and that this was in some form a clemency. He was in very bad shape, couldn't walk on his own, and was clearly going through a psychosis, but it somehow made Daryl feel worse to know that he was the one who was walking the suffering man to his executioner. Negan wouldn't show him kindness, no matter what he was going through.

Daryl pushed the gnawing thoughts from his mind, letting nervous excitement suppress his guilt temporarily as he thought about possibly seeing Jesus again. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to speak to the scout alone, but he was going to try. The hunter hadn't forgotten his mission to gather as much intel as he could, and even though Hilltop was working with Alexandria already, he was sure there was some information they could exchange to help their cause. The hard part was finding a way to do it.

Although Daryl knew the distance between the small town and their destination was nearly an hour away due to the inconvenience of the apocalypse, they arrived sooner than he thought. The roads had remained clear thanks to their trek through earlier, so only half an hour had passed by before they reached Hilltop's opened gates.

"Where's the man of the hour?" Gavin asked as the group of them emerged from their vehicles.

Daryl scanned the yard for Jesus and found him sitting on the porch steps, his eyes boring into him. He gave him a slight nod as the van doors were yanked open to reveal a shrunken Dr. Emmett Carson.

"There he is!" Gavin smiled, his eyes empty. "Bring him out."

The doctor struggled feebly as he was drug out of the van and in full view of everyone present. They shoved him down on his knees, and he cried out, clutching his bad leg. Daryl stiffened his posture, readying himself for the violence he felt lurking around the corner.

"Well, how do ya do, doc?" Gaving asked the trembling man. "You look worse for fucking wear. What the hell happened out there?"

"Please," Emmett whimpered. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't beg me. I'm not the one you need to be apologizing to. I just wanted to give you a look over and let your brother see ya one last time before we take you home." Gaving eyed Emmett and shook his head in disgust. He looked at the lot who brought the doctor in. "Who found him?"

"The hick did," David said, flicking his thumb over his shoulder at Daryl.

"Well, I'll be damned," Gavin looked at him. "You really are a great fucking tracker. I'll admit, I'm surprised."

Daryl gritted his teeth, but stayed silent and traded a look with Jesus that said he wasn't pleased with himself. Jesus's face didn't change and he sat as motionless as before, his thoughts unreadable.

"Well, I guess we better load this pony up and get him back to the stable. Wave goodbye to your brother, Emmett, you won't be seeing him for a while - if ever."

"Please, Gavin, let me check his wounds and get him some water before you guys leave. We'll make you all dinner," Harland begged, looking around to see if anyone else would agree or add anything else to his offerings.

"That sounds very nice, but we've got a drive ahead of us and it's beginning to get late." The fake smile crept up his cheeks again. "Boys, get our haul for the week. Might as well while we're here."

The Saviors set about their task while Harlan looked at his older brother dejectedly, not knowing how to help him. He took a step forward to hug his brother for what would probably be the very last time, but Gavin's obstructing hand stopped him.

"You know, there is one thing you can do for us before we leave," Gavin said to him and looked at Emmett. "Since you're already fucked up…"

Gavin spun to Harlan, landing a solid fist across his jaw. Harlan fell to the ground, black spots blurring his vision as he clutched grass in his fists to steady himself. Before he could get back up, he felt a series of blows pummeling into him and he fell on his stomach to the ground, unable to move.

Daryl watched in pity as Harlan was beaten in front of his community, his brother a weeping, regretful mess.

"This is what you get when you break Negan's rules!" Gavin addressed the people of Hilltop. "Take a nice long look, remember it, and let it be the last fucking lesson you'll ever need."

Harlan was spitting out blood now and Jared flipped the younger doctor onto his back, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to yank him half up off of the ground. He began to hit the doctor repeatedly in the face until a woman started to scream and some Hilltop men rushed forward, pleading for him to stop but were quickly blocked and beaten themselves. Daryl had to do something.

"No," Alan grabbed Daryl's arms as he started toward Jared. "Don't."

"He's gonna kill him," Daryl reasoned, ripping his arm out of Alan's grasp.

"And you'll be next if you fucking do anything," Alan took hold of the back of Daryl's shirt, tugging him back.

"That's enough!" Gavin hollered, and Jared let an unconscious Harlan fall to the ground with a thud.

"Bitch," Jared grumbled, giving Harlan one last kick.

"Okay, Jared," Gavin said. He turned to the rest of his men. "We all set?"

"Ready to go, sir," David answered.

"Wonderful." Gavin walked slowly up to Gregory. "Thanks for being honest with us. You can keep your head…for now."

"No, no!" Emmett cried as two men dragged him back into the van, and Daryl tried hard to swallow down the anger. He searched for Jesus again, but found him gone from his spot, gone from the burning crowd that stared back at him.

 _I'm not one of 'em_ , Daryl wanted to shout but he turned away instead and got into the truck.

* * *

The ride was just as Negan and Simon promised: rough and bumpy. I was sure I'd have a few bruises on my legs and hips, but I managed to avoid becoming airborne by the bigger impacts. I suspected Simon hit the majority of them on purpose, and I felt a sense of exultation when a basket of supplies _did_ go flying out the side and landed under the tires of the vehicle behind us. The truck slowed then and magically the ride became smoother, too. It was nearly a miracle.

I was beginning to wonder how long it would take us to reach Somerset as I nestled in between my bags and a few of others', finally able to sit somewhat agreeably after being slung around the better part of the ride. The truck slowing to turn had me looking around and as I gazed through the back windshield and up to the front, I saw we were winding down a densely wooded road with a black wrought iron fence ahead of us, the gate ornamented with a large, golden S.

As we pulled up, I noticed that the fence had been reinforced by sharpened logs, similar to that of Hilltops, but they were much smaller and fit to the open spaces between the iron rods. The fence itself was surely strong on its own if not defendable in its original state. The wood, however, insured more security and gave the perimeter a quality of privacy; no living dead lurking around if there was nothing to see, hear, or eat.

The gates opened automatically, Simon not having to stop or slow down; like they knew we were coming and when to expect us. I pondered that; wondered if there was some sort of tripping mechanism, but that didn't seem right. Anyone could get in if their gates ran on sensors. I scanned the top of the fence on the outside and inside as we pulled through. No one was guarding it and that felt infinitely more atypical to me.

I shifted to sit forward on my knees and placed my hands on the edge of the open rear window. I wanted to ask what this place was, too, but decided against it after considering the last answer I got. The fact that I was also riding in the back of the truck and not in the front was enough of an indication that the two men I rode with were not happy with me, so I kept my mouth shut and used my eyes instead.

The first buildings we came up to were small cabins lined in a row that led up to one larger building. It was a resort of some kind, seemingly one of the high-end with everything being uniform and expensively made. Whoever had initially found this place had definitely hit the apocalypse jackpot. What better way to spend your last days than in luxury with, as a sign with illustrated arrows pointed out, a spa, sauna, _and_ indoor pool? Where the fuck do I sign up?

"Is this whole place still functioning?" I leaned my head in through the window, silent treatment be damned. I wanted some answers.

"Just about," Simon quirked an eyebrow at me. "You wanna marinate your tender loins after bouncing in my ride for the past twenty minutes?"

"Wouldn't hurt," I suggested, ignoring the innuendo. I wanted a break. I wanted to relax and feel something other than misery for once. I figured it would be a long shot to say anything, but there wasn't any harm in trying…hopefully.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me?" Negan spoke, but continued to sit facing forward. My gaze shifted over the resort grounds, trying to see what he was talking about but he glanced over his shoulder at me, his facial expression not amused. I sat back away from the window. I'd pushed too far. "Simon, stop the truck."

"Yes, sir," he said, a hint of a smile in his voice.

I looked between him and Negan as the latter pushed open his door and jumped out. He slammed it and stood by the bed of the truck, signaling me to get down with a glare. I moved over to him slowly, my heartbeat starting to pick up. I didn't think the idea would've offended him so much, and that was mainly because I was mostly joking when I said it. I thought my ride in the back of the truck had been the extent of my punishment. I would surely feel it in the morning, my back and legs were stiff already, but it was foolish of me to think it would stop there.

I landed beside him, and he took my arm roughly, dragging me after him down a darkening trail.

"I was kidding," I tried to reason, tree limbs hitting my face.

"So am I," Negan said, and tugged on my arm. I stumbled after him and took that as he didn't believe me. "Honestly, you could fucking make jokes or beg me all damn day for what you wanted and it wouldn't change a thing. Fuck, you could get down on your knees, suck my cock, cradle the balls, work the fucking shaft like a goddamn pro and I wouldn't buckle. This isn't about some off-handed wish you made, this is about you using my girl against me and how you're gonna pay for it."

"I didn't _use_ her against you! I pointed her at you!" I wracked my brain to find logic in what was happening. "I was upset!"

Negan yanked me to the side, pushing me against a tree. He face was inches from mine as he glowered down at me through the fading light.

"Do you think I really need you to make excuses? I understand why you did it. It's the fucking fact that you _did do it_ that pisses me the fuck off. I made a joke, too." Negan raised his eyebrows in a mocking smile. "Did you let me get away with it?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but Negan stopped me with a hand over my mouth.

"I don't need to fucking hear it. I saw the way you were looking at me and how you held her in your hands. You looked at me the same goddamn way the first night I met you. The exact same fucking way your cunt of a man-bitch leader looked at me. I'm telling you right fucking here and now that I won't tolerate shit. It's quite fucking provoking that I've got to speak the same fucking words to you over and over and fucking over!"

I flinched as he yelled at me. I didn't know what to do, so I when I opened my eyes again I kept them cast down and concentrated on my breathing.

"I want you to learn your place, Everly, because I fucking like you, but I'm slowly losing any semblance of goddamn patience with you."

He removed his hand from my mouth and leaned in against the tree, bringing his face closer to mine, intimidating me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and met his eyes again. It would be better if I just got this over with.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

He watched me for a moment, the cooling air coupled with Negan's intense stare making me shiver. He pushed off the tree and took a step back, giving me room to breathe. He smiled.

"Run."

* * *

"It's okay, they're gone. You can come out now," Rick called as he walked behind the mansion.

Slowly, Michonne and the others came from under the trailer, Rick grabbing their hands to help them out.

"Jesus, Maggie went to get Tara and Eugene in the cellar. Could ya check on 'em?" Rick asked.

Jesus nodded and set off to the cellar doors.

"Oh, God. I hope they didn't go down there," Michonne remarked.

"They're fine. I was watching the front yard the entire time they were here. They would've dragged them out if they'd found them," Rick soothed, hugging her to him and kissing her forehead.

"Jesus Christ on a bicycle, they took their time," Maggie groaned as she, Tara, Eugene, and Jesus rejoined the rest of them. She rubbed her belly and stretched her back.

"Yeah, they also beat the shit out of Carson. And they found Emmett," Rick informed her and let Michonne go. Maggie's eyes went wide.

"They didn't..?" She started to ask, but couldn't finish.

"He's alive, or so I think. They did him in pretty good."

"Dammit," Maggie cursed and bit her thumb.

"We should skedaddle now," Eugene said anxiously. "We can convene at a more appropriate time when we don't risk the chance of getting our asses handed to us."

"There's always the chance of us getting caught, Eugene," Rosita mumbled smartly.

"It's now or never," Rick said, shaking his head. "Everyone watched them beat the ever-living hell out of one of their own. For doing absolutely nothing! If you want to ask people to fight and get them to join us in this, now is the time to do it when everything is still fresh in their minds."

"He's right," Jesus agreed, looking at Maggie. "We do it together, we give them a plan, show them how we can win, they'll jump in."

"What plan? Win how?" Maggie asked, holding out her hands. "We don't have anything."

"Oh, we will," Tara blurted. "We're going to get those guns from Oceanside. I'll make sure of it."

"And King Ezekiel will aide us. I can convince him," Jesus seemed sure.

"We can't go around making false promises," Maggie reasoned. Rick sighed.

"And we won't. This is going to happen."

"Okay," Maggie nodded. "I'll have your back, but I'm going to let you lead this one."

"Get everyone together for a town meetin'."

Rick took in a deep breath and studied all the people who were depending on him. He didn't want to let them down nor did he want to gamble with their lives either. He had to be sure that they all knew what they were getting into, and he wanted to convince them this was their best option as well. It was _their_ time. They weren't going to stay stuck in the mud on their knees any longer. They were going to win. He was going to make sure of it.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker. Sorry this chapter is short. I had a busy week and will be out of town with family for a while. Hopefully next weeks will be longer and better.**

 **Thank you to my guest reviewers! I particularly like the one who called out 'Origins of Negan'. I decided to go back and have a look to check if maybe _I_ was the one who actually missed something. My reaction is as follows...**

 **Me: Oh, wow, the video might be a fake? Well, that's possible, but it's seemed fairly genuine. Let me just watch the video again, maybe actually read the whole description this time because if this is fake and I shared it with hundreds of people I'm gonna be really disappointed in mysel-SON OF A BITCH!**

 **Yep, it's a big ol' fake. Here's the youtube description at the bottom after it shamelessly plugs itself as a "sneak peek" and "see how Negan began in the season 8 premier on October 22, 9/8c" or some shit: "What if it played out like this? Altering the comic storyline. Who knows, but this envisioning is cool. Word play is great. _Excellent fanmade material that would actually work._ "**

 **The key words any idiot (me) with two functioning eyes should note here are "EXCELLENT FAN MADE MATERIAL"... "FAN MADE"... "Fan made" as in InAHeartbeat23 is a fucking moron whose attention span lasts 2 goddamn seconds and she doesn't read for SHIT.**

 **Anyway, sorry if that was disappointing. I'm ashamed of myself, and I apologize. I'll keep my fangirl comments to myself from now on. :'/ - The face I'm making as shame is eating me alive right now.**

 **Also, thank you Blue Moon! Your review was so kind! It made me feel less like a jackass, haha. :)**


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

"Run."

I stared at Negan and his smile grew slowly as I stood there pressed against the tree, rigid and confused. I felt myself tense as I measured his demeanor, but he remained motionless; almost statuesque. I eyed the narrow path we were on, noting the trees and growing darkness that shrouded us from every direction. I didn't totally understand what he wanted me to do, and I took a step to the side, moving back onto the path where I was free from any obstructions.

 _Calm down_ , I told myself as blood accelerated through my veins. _This is just a scare tactic. He won't hurt you…_

"What're you waiting for, Everly?" Negan asked teasingly, unsheathing his bowie knife from his hip. The metal was a sharp reflector of the viridian that surrounded us.

"What are you playing at?" I glanced at the edged metal, and shuffled backward as I tried to place distance between him and I, but Negan matched each of my footsteps with one of his own.

"Not a damn thing," he shook his head slowly. "I just want you to show me how fast those long, pretty legs of yours can go."

Through the diminishing light, Negan's features seemed to form into something entirely unworldly, and I withered under his fervid stare. Fear had a hold of me now. I was afraid to look away, afraid to turn my back on him. I knew the second that I did I'd feel the agonizing pain of his bowie knife plunging into my back; one cut for every instance that I have defied him.

"Stop it!"

I tried to sound commanding, but my voice wavered and I swallowed down the panic.

"Don't let me catch you, Everly," Negan said softly, a malicious gleam igniting his eyes.

And I ran.

I didn't know if he lashed the knife out at me when I turned around, but in my mind I could see it barely missing the nape of my neck as it sliced at the air. My skin prickled at the vision, and I pushed my legs to the limit, terrified of what would happen if I slowed down by just a fraction. Negan was in pursuit, his booming footfalls behind me were electrifying and my lungs began to burn as they strained to draw in air.

The path was narrow and bending, and it became harder to see as I careened past full tree limbs, snagging undergrowth, and the night's shadows as it began to grow. I wasn't aware of where I was headed and I couldn't think of what to do once I reached the end of this trail - if there was one. I could hear Negan not far behind, his breathing hard and steady like the rubber treading of his boots as they hit the ground at my heels.

 _Don't stop running._

And I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. Adrenaline propelled me forward, and I started to feel light as the air whipped around me, fluttering my hair behind my back. I felt a sliver of hope as the trail began to widen, and I noticed the ending tree line a few hundred feet ahead. Would it make a difference if I reached it or not? Chances were Negan would pursue me as far as he could go; there were no base zones here, only horror.

The path was beginning to clear as I neared its finish. I scanned the area beyond it, trying vainly to find somewhere to go, somewhere to escape whatever sick game Negan was playing with me, but all I spotted was an open, muddy field and the obscure outlining of the same buildings I saw before in the distance to my left. There was nowhere to run.

A force hit me from behind, teetering me forward as a pair of powerful leather clad arms wrapped around my waist. I screamed and reached out as I began to fall forward, but I was twisted to the side before hitting the ground, my back landing on Negan's solid chest instead. He rolled us over once as we stopped, his body covering mine as I struggled to breathe and get out from underneath him, but he was too heavy.

I closed my eyes as I waited for the knife to plunge into the valley of my shoulder blades or the grip of Negan's callused hand as he pulled my head back to cut open my throat, but neither sensation came. The only things I felt were the vibrations from Negan's chest as he began to laugh in my ear and a sense of unease which quickly turned into humiliation.

"Get off of me!" I yelled, pushing against the ground to buck him off but he barely budged.

"No, I like you in this position," Negan breathed against the side of my face and I threw back an elbow, hitting his shoulder. He grabbed both of my arms and pinned them to the ground, letting out an airy laugh. "Easy now, darlin'. We can wrestle if you want, but I'd prefer it if you had no fucking clothes on when we did."

"Fuck you!" I spat.

"Right now?" Negan asked sarcastically.

He peered around the field, and I felt the pressure from his body subside as he lifted himself off of me. I took in a deep breath of the cool air, trying to push myself up as well, but he still held down my wrists.

"Was that it?" I snapped. "That was my punishment? You threaten me with a knife like a fucking psycho so you could chase me down like the animal you are?"

Negan's grip tightened on my wrists as he yanked me up and pushed me onto my back. He kept his position over me, my arms immobilized against the ground and him straddling my hips.

"Damn," he remarked, his smiling eyes dancing over me. "And here I thought that I could scare some fucking obedience into you. What the hell am I going to do? Do I need to drag your ass back to your unrequited love to shock some sense into you?"

I lowered my burning gaze then and concentrated on how many teeth Negan's jacket zipper had. I had tried very hard not to think about Daryl too much on this trip. I was using the time outside of the Sanctuary as an excuse to forget what happened, but it didn't stop the nagging thoughts from crashing my mind every uninterrupted second like an unwanted guest.

"No," I muttered, finally subdued. I didn't want to see Daryl for the time being despite how much it pained me to admit that. I cared too deeply for him and because of that I felt sick every time I thought about him, but I definitely didn't want him punished because of me either. When we reunited, I wanted it to be on good, forgiving terms.

"Well, what's it going to take, my dear? Should I try for some unconventional tactics?" Negan spoke deeply and lowered himself onto me.

"No," I stated firmly, meeting his gaze again which was not far from my own.

"I can make you forget about him, you know," Negan whispered as he eyed my lips.

"I don't need you for anything."

"Are you sure about that?" He asked smoothly.

"Yes," I answered simply, but I couldn't disregard the comforting feel of his weight on me or how soothed I felt when I breathed in his scent. I turned my head to the side so he couldn't see the heat spread in my cheeks.

 _Stop it, stop it, stop it_ , I chanted in my head and closed my eyes. He had just chased me through the woods under the pretense that he would use a knife on me if I couldn't run fast enough. How could I feel any sort of positive emotion toward this man? I wanted to think about Daryl, to feel like I used to when his face entered my mind, but all I had left of him now was heartache, and tears stung my eyes.

I heard Negan sigh as he got up and he pulled me up after with a tug on my wrists. I stumbled to my feet as I blinked away the wetness in my eyes and he let me go. I couldn't look him in the face as I stood awkwardly in front of him. I was too embarrassed, and frankly, ashamed.

"To answer your first question, no, that wasn't it," Negan said, bumping my shoulder with his fingertips. He pointed to the muddy field behind me. "When I said 'run' I was referring to this, but the look you gave me right after I said it had wicked ass thoughts flooding my mind. I couldn't help pulling out that knife and scaring you."

"You're fucking insane," I accused.

"Only for you," he smiled joyfully and bopped my nose with his index finger. He shrugged. "Sure, it was pretty fucked up of me, but you damn well deserved it. I either roll with the punches or I lay them out hard, and sweetie, I just _laid_ you fucking _hard_."

I wanted to smack him, but I curled my twitching fingers into fists instead. What he spoke was the unfortunate truth. My legs were like rubber, and while he had broken the fall when he tackled me, I had a suspicion I'd feel the impact more than he would in the morning; more so after my jerky rollercoaster of a ride to this place.

"If you'd allow it, I'd like to get some rest," I mumbled, wanting a bed, or anything that could pass for one, badly.

"Not so fast," Negan smirked. "You haven't received your punishment to its fullest fucked-over extent. You're not done runnin'."

"What?" I raised my eyebrows. This was surely a joke, but he nodded his head.

"You're gonna run for me until your fucking legs give out." A sweet smile curved Negan's lips. "Now trudge your little ass out there and get to runnin'."

I scoffed. "In the pitch fucking dark?"

Negan let out a chuckle and scanned the twilit sky. "It's either now or at the butt crack of dawn when you're really getting _pounded_ by the effects of all your exertions from today."

I sighed angrily, crossing my arms and flexing my sore feet. "Well, can I have a pair of shoes at least?"

I looked down at the socks I wore, not really able to see them well, but wanting to check them nonetheless. I could feel an intense ache starting to curl its way through my arches and into my toes, and I wondered if they were bloody; if I had run them as raw as they felt.

I searched Negan for an answer, but he stood staring at me with an easy smile and his head cocked to the side, brows dipped in curious amusement. His silence was enough of a reply.

"You could at least hold my hair back while you screw me over," I uttered faintly with an eye roll and began to make my way out to the damp field. I gasped in pain as I felt a sharp impact on my bottom and I wheeled around to face Negan, appalled.

"Sorry. Sometimes my fucking spirit fingers surprise the shit out of me. I got so excited at how well just you minded me that it was a knee-jerk reaction. Or ass-slapping reaction, however you'd like to word it. Think of it as encouragement," he leered mischievously with a wink and wiggled the fingers of his offending hand. He leaned down closely to me. "And if you can't control your filthy fucking mouth when you're speaking to me, I'll do much worse than that. Don't tempt me, Everly. The way you've got me going, I won't hold back for too much longer."

I rubbed the throbbing spot where Negan had hit me and tried to lose the scowl that controlled my face. I backed away from him, wanting to do the exact thing he told me not to, but I bit back the words that burned my mouth and ran.

* * *

"Thank you, everyone, for coming," Maggie spoke to her fellow Hilltop colonists from the front steps of the Barrington House. "I know this isn't the greatest of times for a meetin', but given what transpired here ealier, this may be the best moment to bring up what I believe everyone's been thinkin' and wantin'."

Maggie took a moment to take a deep breath. She scanned the crowd of those she had the pleasure of getting to know the past few months and knew this discussion would either bring her closer to them or push them away. She looked over her shoulder at Rick who gave her a reassuring nod, showing her his support. She nodded back and licked her lips.

"We can't do this anymore," Maggie stated simply and shrugged. "We can't keep goin' this way, afraid of doin' somethin' wrong or not doin' anything at all and getting punished for it anyway. It's not right, and I don't think we should continue to let it be our standard of livin'."

"What are you getting at here, Maggie?" Gregory asked.

"Well," she took a deep breath again. "Really, the reason for all of this is why my old group is here. Y'all know our story, what happened to us when we first met Negan. How I lost my husband to him..."

Maggie paused for a moment to let everyone remember their tale and rubbed her belly, an absent look coming over her face as she recalled that horrible night as well. She nodded her head as the corners of her mouth turned into a frown, but she composed herself before she could break out into tears.

"Negan is cruel…to everyone he manipulates. He is not forgivin' and he is not kind. He doesn't provide us with any sort of support other than the arrangement that we won't be attacked if we comply. But how well has he kept his word?" Maggie pointed to the spot where Harlan Carson had lain after Negan's Saviors left him bloody and beaten. "Let their actions speak for them. They don't compromise, they destroy. They rob us blind, takin' more and more from us every week…and what do we have to show for it? Fear? Anguish? Degradation? How much more do we have to endure before we've had enough?"

Gregory stared to laugh, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. He threw out his hand with an airy sigh. "And what do you propose we do, Maggie? It's not like we have spare bridges to burn. We don't have a choice in the matter."

"Well, I'm here to say that you do," Rick piped in and stepped up next to Maggie. "We've all got a choice. It's just makin' the effort to pick the right one is where it becomes hard. Now, I know you're all scared. We are, too." Rick gestured to his group behind him. "But we're tired. Tired of worryin' if the week's pick-up will be enough and then turns out it ain't. Tired of bein' beaten or threatened within an inch of our lives because we couldn't scavenge enough of what's left in these empty cities to provide for him. We're tired of bein' torn down and dehumanized because it's what gets these sick fucks off… I'm tired of seein' the people I care about _die_!"

Rick's voice echoed throughout the yard and he realized he'd taken a few steps down the stairs during his rant and he was clutching a bulging fist out in front of him. He took in a few breaths to calm his rattled nerves and swallowed down his emotions. He lowered his shaking hand and stood up straight. He wanted these people to be on his side, not think he was crazy.

"I'm not sure about y'all, but what I witnessed in this yard today is the dull side of Negan's blade. He is so much more and he deals out so much worse," Rick inspected the crowd and their reactions. He couldn't tell if he was getting through to them or not. "I say we take a stand, rise up, and seize back what was never his in the first place: our free will and self-reliance."

"How?" A man questioned, a look of anxious concern on his face. "What chance would we have?"

"We're working on that, but there are other communities in the loop," Rick replied, knowing it wasn't the whole truth, but he wanted them to believe they could do this. "They have weapons and numbers. If we band together, we can't take Negan down easily."

Rick was interrupted by Gregory's loud guffaws at the suggestion. "You're ludicrous! You can't seriously believe that this group, _my_ people, would even attempt to…to…go through with this folly?"

Gregory looked around at the colony he was supposed to be in charge of; trying to find confirmation for his thoughts, but no one stepped out to agree with him. They looked at him hesitantly before looking around at each other.

"How many communities and how much weaponry?" Someone asked Rick and Maggie. The two looked to each other and released relieved breaths simultaneously. This was a good start.

"Well, with us, that'd be five," Maggie explained. "And considerin' the size of each one, we'd have at least two hundred people to fight, maybe more. And enough weapons and ammo for everyone."

The crowd started to murmur then, whispering feverishly to one another about the possibility of a life out from under Negan's crushing thumb. Rick eyed Maggie, knowing she had just fed them a lie. They couldn't be certain how many people would gather to fight nor did they know how many weapons they could get their hands on. Rick was relying on Dwight's credibility for that.

"Would it be worth it? Why risk our lives?" A woman's voice rang out.

"Our lives are at risk already, every day. What difference will it make if we add more?" Someone countered.

"That's it exactly. Why would we want to add a bigger chance of losing our lives if we can barely hold onto them now?"

"And live like slaves until those fuckers murder us and we turn into groaning dumbasses? Fuck that! I say we fight while we're still young!" A man roared. He was met with a raucous stream of masculine agreements.

"Hold on! Hold on!" Gregory yelled trying to get the crowd to quiet down and listen to him.

"I think their minds might already be made," Maggie smiled down at him and Gregory turned to her with a sharp look. He climbed the stairs at a run and began to yell for everyone's attention again.

"This cannot and will not happen!" He hollered and the bluster began to dampen. "I'm having a hard time understanding why you all would be so eager to throw everything you have away for the meager chance at winning this…," he sputtered as he searched for accurate words, "this false claim for independence that was apparently stolen from you. Nothing was taken from you. You are free, independent people!"

"Oh, come on!" Someone complained which was closely followed by a loud, "Bullshit!"

"Now, now!" Gregory commanded, irate hands pushing out at the crowd. "I am your leader and I say no! This is no way to behave, let alone have the audacity of discussing something like this!"

"Boooo!" The man who hailed for fighting moments before called out. "I say we veto Gregory and decide for ourselves!"

Another round of approval aroused the Hilltop array, and Gregory looked back and forth between them and Maggie, dumbstruck.

"You can't be serious?" He demanded, stomping up into Maggie's personal space.

"This is a democracy, Gregory. You can't decide for everyone or you'll be just like him," Maggie stared him down, and Gregory's face turned red with anger.

"You'll be sorry when you get everyone killed," he spat and stormed off into the house.

Maggie raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. She looked to the congregation below her. "All in favor of kicking some ass raise your hand!"

And one-by-one, second-by-second, hands highlighted the air as if they were burgeoning trees. More than half of the Hilltop survivors wanted a fighting chance for their lives back. Those who opposed stood by silently, watching their dwelling counterparts vote for something dangerous. Something they didn't know the full extent of what they were getting into. One man tried to raise his hand, but a young woman kept grabbing his arms and pulling them down, admonishing him in a low, distraught voice.

"You're all very brave," Rick complimented them. He felt elated inside, but he kept his emotions in check. "We'll have some hard times ahead of us, I won't lie to you. This won't be easy… But we are going to fight…and we sure as hell are going to win."

"Hell, yeah!" A man yelled and then they all started to cheer.

* * *

"Hell, yeah! Pump those sexy ass legs," Negan yelled. Watching Everly as she struggled to keep running almost reminded him of his glory coaching days, and he liked the nostalgic feeling that enveloped him, throwing out encouraging comments laced with barely hidden suggestions. He knew it angered her and that's why he did it; it gave him a thrill.

He took a swig of beer and went to stand by Simon, Theodore, and Laura. They had been somewhat of a welcome wagon with sandwiches, drinks, and flashlights as the night got later. And while this time was meant to be a punishment for Everly, Negan couldn't help but admire her with the glare of his flashlight as she ran.

Her jeans were tight and muddy, and the shirt she wore was damp with sweat which clung to her body, accentuating her feminine features. Negan enjoyed the satisfaction that course through him; particularly to one special part of him.

"Goddamn," he remarked, looking at Simon beside him and matching grins broke across their faces.

"How long has she been running?" Laura asked through a bite of her dinner.

"Not long enough," Negan let out a contended sigh, and took another swig.

"I'm waiting for her to face plant," Theodore chimed in, and Laura elbowed his side lightheartedly.

"Everly's sort of cool chick," Laura looked past Theodore to Negan and Simon. "If you're into the goody two-shoes type. Like a tough cheerleader or a hard-bitten Stepford wife."

Theodore let out a snort and rolled his eyes, "What the fuck does that even mean?"

"It means she's cute as a doll with her soft voice and dainty hands, but I bet she could knock your ass out," Laura quipped at him.

"Wow, Laura. You don't always say dumb things, but when you do, they're truly the cream of the fucking crop," Theodore remarked and Laura punched on the shoulder. "Ow!"

"Play nice, children," Simon admonished, but continued to smile. Then he had a brilliant idea. "Hey, Laura, if you're so certain of Everly's fighting abilities, why don't you go out there and…give it a go yourself? You're a pretty strong gal."

"Don't even bother, Simon," Laura downed the rest of her beer and walked over to him. She shined the flash light under their faces and stood close to him. Simon stopped chewing his sandwich as she flicked one of the buttons on his shirt. "I know exactly where your mind is at, and there's no way I'm mud wrestling any chick who won't fuck me after. Too much skin-on-skin contact with no pay off. Not. Fucking. Worth it."

"Oh, man," Simon whined, roving his eyes between her and the two men beside him. Laura smiled and walked back to the hotel, taking long, purposeful strides. "She wants to fuck me."

"You want her to want to fuck you," Negan told him as he raised the beer bottle to his lips.

"I want to watch her roll around in the fucking mud with another woman and _then_ fuck the both of them," Simon corrected. He shined his flashlight on Everly as she started to slow down. "Keep it movin' or I'll come out there and get ya!"

She glanced over at them, her red face wet and exhausted, but she began to move faster.

"Fuck," Simon cursed, and Negan laughed.

"Eh, I've had bitches like her before," Theodore commented, swirling the beverage in his hand. "She's a dime a dozen, or used to be, anyway. Most the time when I'd get a girl like her to fuck me, they'd lay there like a starfish; arms and legs out with a dull look in their eyes."

"Damn, Theodore, that's some sick shit. I didn't know roofies were part of your repertoire," Simon snickered.

"I didn't need to drug anyone's drinks, Simon," Theodore rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "They were begging for me."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Negan replied sarcastically. "I bet you were just drowning in pussy at your all boys prep school when you weren't tongue punching some dude's asshole."

"I mean it," Theodore insisted, humiliated. "I bet she's boring lay. You'll see if you ever manage to fuck her."

"Is that a fucking challenge, kid?" Negan asked, giving Theodore his full attention.

"Uh, oh, no, sir," Theodore stammered.

Negan squared his shoulders and shined his light in Theodore's face. "You might've lost your virginity two days before the fucking world ended, but no woman just lies there like a goddamned beach whale when they're properly fucked. I know how to please a woman. That's apparently something you never learned all those years you spent bent over your daddy's desk."

Theodore blinked at Negan, a confused but terrified look on his face.

"He's implying that your dad was a pedophile," Simon clarified.

"I understood," Theodore closed his eyes and nodded.

"Oh, damn. Did I take that too fucking far? Bring up any repressed memories or…?" Negan asked with fake sympathy.

"No, sir. I'm sorry for suggesting-" Theodore's words were cut short by Negan's thick fingers curling around his throat.

"Next time, save yourself the trouble of having to apologize and keep your fuckwitted comments to yourself or I'll rip your tongue out and shove it up your ass."

"Y-yes," Theodore coughed, "si-sir."

Negan let him go and Theodore stumbled back a few steps, massaging his neck. He didn't say another word as he turned around and left the field.

"Night, night," Simon called to Theodore's hastily retreating back.

Negan shined his light on Everly in the field again. She was barely trudging along, her legs limp and blending in with the muck. He whistled and she looked at him, a white hand shielding her eyes from the light.

"While it tickles my balls blue to watch you run all night, I need beauty rest too. Being this good-looking doesn't come easy," he called to her.

She placed her hands on her knees, bending over to catch her breath before gradually dragging her weary feet over to them. She was breathing hard and her face was flushed, her hair sticking to her forehead and neck.

"Jesus, you're a fucking mess," Negan remarked as he looked her over. He turned to Simon. "What do you think? Should we let her get cleaned up or make her sleep out here?"

Simon shrugged. "We could hose her down. We still got one of those?"

"She'll at least need to strip down before I can allow her inside," Negan replied with a sly grin while Everly glared at him.

"She doesn't seem too thrilled with these ideas," Simon whispered dramatically.

"I'm sure we can find something we'll all enjoy," Negan answered and motioned for her to follow them up to the hotel. "Let's go see what our options are."

"I hope it involves bubbles," Simon crossed his fingers and shined his light in Everly's face. She smacked his hand away.

She wanted to say she'd rather sleep in the mud, but the prospect of Negan going along with that idea was too high. She'd deal with their brainless teasing. Hell, she might even surprise them and herself by doing exactly as they'd want; she was on the verge on not giving a shit anymore.

"Maybe Laura and Lydia will help you clean up," Negan spoke over his shoulder and he gave Simon a conspiring look. "We'll try not to be voyeurs."

"Speak for yourself," Simon said and started to jog up to the hotel excitedly. They could hear him shout in the distance. "Laura! I need Laura!"

Negan laughed and put an arm around Everly's shoulders as he steered her after Simon. "Buck up, kid. You know we're fucking with ya."

"Right," she replied, but she was never really sure.

"I wanted to say that I'm proud of you," he said, carefully keeping the beam of light ahead of them.

"For what?" Everly asked, perplexed.

"For proving me right," Negan said and squeezed her shoulder. "You're tough as fucking nails, and I'll admit that it gave me a raging hard-on watching you run for me. That was hot as fucking hell. And when you rescued that little shit earlier? Whew! I'm glad you're on my side."

"Your side?" She scoffed. "What makes you think that?"

"Because if it ever came to it, you would save me, too," he muttered in her ear, and she felt the skin prickle where his breath hit her. And her eyes grew wide as she had a moment of panic. His reason made her question herself, and she couldn't figure out the answer anymore. Was she still his prisoner? Or was she truly his Savior now?

* * *

 **Edited by lolsskicker.**

 **I'm not sure how much I like this chapter, but it hit a few essential points. Let me know if it's as lousy as I think it is or if it's at least a 5/10. *Prepares self for brutally honest reviews***

 **Thank** **you to all my reviewers and readers. You're all beautiful, I tell ya!**


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

We came up to the hotel, our path illuminated by Negan's flashlight along with a scattering of solar lights stuck in the ground and on posts. The hotel itself wasn't brightly lit, choosing to sit in eerie dimness which made it look decrepit and empty. Up close it was easy to see that it was well maintained if not a bit worn down. The façade was grimy from lack of attention and the landscaping wasn't as immaculate as I pictured it to be a few years ago, but it was large and enclosed, and those were its most redeeming qualities now.

Negan toured us around to the back of the building and guided me up a set of stairs onto an expansive terrace, his heavy arm hanging around my shoulders like it always tended to do. It was how he liked to keep me close even though I was always near him. It was another way to make clear he was the one in charge; he decided where and when I stepped with a simple strain of his forearm. At this particular moment, he pulled on me as we came to a stop in front of a paned glass door and drew me close to his side. I glanced up to see him looking down at me from the corner of his eyes, a teasing spark in them.

"Take off your socks," he said.

I looked down at my feet for a moment before using them to slide off the dirt soaked cotton, flinging them to the side of the door with my toes. I didn't dare catch Negan's eye again because I figured what I had just done was bad manners, but I was tired of pretending to care. I heard his deep, raspy laugh and he let me go, opening the door and poking his head inside to look around.

"You have one of two options," he glanced at me over his shoulder with a smirk. "You can follow me in with your nasty-as-shit pants on which may or may not earn you a tongue lashing from Kai if he happens to lays eyes on you or-"

"Who's Kai?" I blurted out and Negan stared at me with a patient smile. He turned to me but kept the door open with his left hand.

"Or," he continued, a chastising finger rising in front of my face, "you can be a champ, leave your pants out here, and come in with a warm welcome."

I gave him a dirty look. "Did you really need to mention the second one?"

"Well," he shrugged with an ease smile and gestured under his extended arm, "I'll let you give it a go."

I released a heavy breath and stomped up to the door, bending down to cross the threshold under his arm. The granite tile was cool on my feet which had me almost moaning - the comfort on my tender feet was immediate. I gazed around as the door shut behind me and I felt Negan at my tail, his goading fingers pressing into the small of my back.

I took a step forward, examining the softly lit, open space. It was bare save for a built-in desk to the left. There were no chairs, tables, or artwork. They must've been moved or used for something else. Negan kept his persisting fingers poking into my back and I walked, moving in the direction he bided me to go.

We were rounding the first corner when a booming voice shook me, and I spun around, clutching Negan's hand in surprise.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Hell no! Go back outside. You're not coming in here with this shit."

A tall, burly man strode up to us pointing at the door we had just walked through. His hair was a dark blond and shaved on the sides, but longer on the top. Two piercings marked his right eyebrow and the tips of a tattoo curled its way out from the collar of his shirt. He was handsome and young, but older than me, and he carried himself in such a way that it reminded me instantly of Negan.

"Come on, lady. Out. You're not fucking my shit up in here," he snapped his fingers at me while still pointing at the door.

"Everly, Kai. Kai, Everly," Negan introduced us with a wide, shit-eating grin.

"Nice to meet you, Everly. Now get the fuck out," Kai said, his voice heavy with a New England accent.

My eyebrows twitched as I stayed put, confused on whether I should do what Kai wanted or stay with Negan. I looked between the two of them, one of them smiling at me with a told-you-so expression and the other annoyed by my messy presence.

"What? Is she fucking deaf or somethin'?" Kai asked Negan while shaking his head and gesturing at me.

Negan laughed at his remark and Kai hit me again with intense gray-blue eyes. He walked up to me, bending down just like Negan did when he wanted to intimidate someone. He leveled his gaze with my own and each word he spoke next was drawn out as if he was speaking to someone with a low mental capacity.

"Get the fuck outside now, do whatever it is that you need to do so you don't look like," he diverted his eyes momentarily at my pants, " _that_ and then you can prance your merry fucking way back in. But do it quickly before I grab you by your scrawny ass neck and throw you out."

He kept stance, fighting a silent battle with me while I held onto Negan's hand for dear life. Why wasn't he standing up for me? Would he let Kai hurt me? I gasped when Kai shot out a hand with fingers as rough and callused as Negan's and wrapped it around the base of my skull. I let go of Negan, and brought both hands up to the one Kai had on me, trying to pry his fingers loose before he could drag me back to the door.

"Kai," Negan's voice was a tame warning and he gripped Kai's forearm. Reluctantly, I was let go.

I pushed past the two of them and practically ran for the back door, flinging it open to escape. I was shocked, and I didn't think that feeling could come as easily or forcefully as it just did from someone other than Negan.

I took in deep breaths to calm myself. He had almost let him do it. Negan just barely stopped Kai from ripping me away from him, and it felt like he only blocked him out of obligation.

"Remove your pants," a voice commanded from behind me, and I was so lost in my thoughts I couldn't register who it belonged to.

"I don't have anything else to put on," I whispered over my shoulder, but I didn't hear an answer for a time.

A smart rap on the paned glass door set me on the edge again, and my fingers instantaneously went to my button and zipper, remembering the first day I stayed in the Sanctuary. I pulled the soiled clothing to my ankles and stepped out of them, shivering from the chilled air and my highly strung nerves. I faced the door and saw the both of them standing there, their eyes on me, and Negan wasn't smiling anymore.

"Now pick that filth up and get rid of it," Kai demanded. "I don't want to see it out here in the morning. You're fucking lucky you didn't get any of that shit inside."

Kai left with a small, smirking scoff, striding down the hallway where Negan had begun to lead me before. I rubbed my hands up my arms and pressed my bare legs together as I nervously shifted focus to Negan, and his chest sunk in as he let out breath.

"Come on," he said lightly and flicked two fingers at me.

I gathered my pants and socks, turning the jeans inside out so mud wouldn't drip anywhere and I wouldn't have to face the boisterous wrath that was Kai. He scared me as much as Negan did, but I didn't know him which made the terror fresh and unpredictable. And I hated to say it, but I felt…used to Negan now. We knew each other, maybe not well, but we'd shared parts of ourselves with the other, and the things I divulged I never thought I'd speak about again. It set a thin, but undeniable line of understanding that connected us.

I followed Negan inside again and kept my gaze lowered as he led me through the hotel, feeling absolutely naked despite the shirt and underwear I wore. He opened the stairwell door and held it open for me. I stepped past him and climbed up the stairs, my bundle of clothing pressed to my chest. When we reached the second floor landing, Negan's finger tips tugged on my bare hip and I halted, facing him.

"Here," he spoke in a low voice. He unzipped his jacket and slipped it from his shoulders.

I took it from his offering hands and in turn, he grabbed my bunched clothes so I could hold his jacket around my waist.

"Thank you," I whispered. The action was kind but belated.

"I'd hate to have to punish you again," he whispered, moving close to me. He ran a hand down my arm. "I'd hate it even more if had to watch while I let Kai do it."

My throat clench at how serious he looked.

"Promise me you won't defy me again." He leaned into me, his bearded cheek scratching mine. "Tell me you'll be a good girl."

"I will," I whispered.

"You will what?"

"I'll be good."

I didn't want to go any further than that. It felt wrong, but Negan's expression advised that he wasn't fully satisfied with my answer. I swallowed down my pride and said, "I'll be a good girl."

"Yeah, you will," he surmised and smiled. He pulled me against him in a hug and placed his lips against my forehead. "You'll be my good girl."

* * *

The convoy entered the Sanctuary gates, driving around to park in the back. The morning was early, sunlight barely breaking out over the tree tops in shades of pink and yellow. Daryl grimaced as he brought the truck to a stop next to the other vehicles. He wasn't ready for an encore of Dr. Carson's pitiful whimpering, and as he popped open his door, his ears were assaulted by that exact desperate crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Dr. Carson pleaded, his words stringing together to sound like one as he was taken from a van.

"Shut the fuck up!" Jared yelled as he grabbed the sobbing doctor from the hands of another Savior and slammed him on the ground.

"I ain't watchin' this shit," Daryl mumbled to Alan and Shawn before stomping off.

"Let him go," Shawn told Alan as he made to go after him. Jared had Carson pinned on the ground as he smacked him around. "I don't want to see this shit either."

Daryl pushed his way inside, storming through the winding halls until he reached Everly's room. He raised his hand to knock, but hesitated. He was still scared of being rejected, and he wouldn't fully blame her if she did. He wasn't too proud of himself anymore.

"She's not there."

Daryl turned to see Dwight walking down the hallway toward him, and Daryl lowered his fist. He thought she'd be back by now and worried thoughts flooded his mind.

"She's ain't back already?" He asked.

Dwight shook his head and shrugged his shoulder. He had a cucumber and knife in his hands, slicing off a piece and then devouring it. He gestured over his shoulder for Daryl to follow him.

"There's something we need to talk about."

"I ain't got shit to talk to you about," Daryl growled and turned his back on him.

"I've got booze and an offer," Dwight said.

Daryl stopped and clutched his fists. What he really wanted was to go to his room, fall into bed and not get up until Everly got back. Apparently, that would be asking for too much because Dwight walked up to his side, crunching on another piece of cucumber. It took all the strength left in Daryl not to slam a fist into the side of his scarred face.

"You'll wanna hear what I've got to say," Dwight muttered, looking up and down the hallway. "It'll only take a few minutes."

Daryl speculated at the man, curious about his actions and slightly anxious demeanor. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to find out what Dwight wanted, and if he didn't like what he heard, he could choke the fucker out before hitting the hay.

"Make it quick. I ain't got any patience for bullshit today," Daryl grumbled.

Dwight flicked up his eyebrows and rolled his eyes before setting off down the corridor to his room. Daryl followed, listening to the irritating smacking sounds Negan's lieutenant made as he ate his snack. They reached Dwight's room quickly, and the occupant threw open the door to let his guest sidle inside.

"Make yourself comfortable," Dwight suggested, but Daryl remained silently standing. Dwight sighed. "Suit yourself."

He sat on his bed, carving off another piece of the vegetable before tossing it aside and eating his last bite. He sat forward and placed his elbow on his knees, getting comfortable but ready to spring up if Daryl tried something. He knew this conversation wouldn't be easy.

"I've got a plan to get you outta here. Sherry and I've been working on it."

Daryl didn't move, his narrowed eyes were stone as they stared at Dwight.

"I'm gonna get you set up," Dwight continued, hoping he'd be able to say all he needed to before Daryl decided to storm out. "There's a place halfway between here and Alexandria. It's a small cabin that's been deserted long before today. It's barely standing up, but the area around it is clear and secluded. No one knows about it but me."

Dwight paused to study Daryl for a reaction and let out a huff of breath when there was none.

"There's food and clothes there. You'll be able to hide long enough for Negan to check Alexandria twenty times over before you have to move on."

"No," Daryl stated flatly.

"Let me finish," Dwight started.

"No," Daryl said and made for the door.

"Everly is going, too," Dwight appealed, getting up to meet Daryl at the door. "I'm going to make sure she's with you when you leave. You aren't going to leave her here alone. I won't allow it."

Daryl turned blazing eyes on him then and grabbed Dwight by the shirt. He yanked the smaller man forward and peered savagely down at him.

"Don't speak her fucking name like you care about her. You don't care 'bout no one but your rotten self."

"Daryl, easy," Dwight soothed, placing his hands on top of Daryl's. "You both are leaving. I fucking swear to you. Just hear me out."

Daryl took in a few deep breaths before releasing Dwight with a rough shove. Dwight stumbled back a bit and adjusted his shirt. Anger was starting to grow in him, and he attempted to smother it before speaking once more.

"I've been stashing a fucking cache of weapons and ammo in that cabin for the past month, waiting for the right time to do this. It was originally meant for Sherry and me, but your group was that incessant fucking dinger going off in my head, telling me there was another way to handle all of this; a harder, but permanent way."

"What the hell do ya even mean?" Daryl gruffly asked, confused.

"It means we won't have to run or hide anymore. I've been planning a way to kill Negan since I dragged my sorry ass back here and threw my wife's well-being into the mix," Dwight said, sniffing and working on maintain his irritation. "I've talked to other groups who feel the same way I do, but it was never enough. Now, I think it might be. And I need you to listen to me for fucking once and do what I say."

"What you say don't mean shit to me," Daryl replied in a rising voice. "I can't trust a lick of what comes out of your mouth any more than I'd bend over and let Negan fuck me the way you let him do you _and_ your wife."

It was Dwight's moment now to grab hold of Daryl as he rushed at him and pinned him against a shelf, books and various items falling around them to blend in with the already cluttered floor.

"Don't you fucking talk about her like that, you piece of shit," Dwight threatened.

Daryl shoved him back, overpowering the smaller man and pushing him to the floor. Daryl towered over him, rearing back a fist to pummel him into oblivion, but he stopped himself. He was fighting against an opportunity he'd been dying to have since he'd been caged in this place. Why was he struggling so hard to prove it a lie?

"You're afraid, aren't you?" Dwight told him from the ground. Daryl pushed his lips together and raised his fist higher. "You're afraid of becoming me."

"I ain't," Daryl muttered.

"You are and you will if you stay here for much longer," Dwight warned, his ire ebbing away as he realized how true it was. He wanted Daryl to believe him. "You've gotta go, man."

Daryl thought for a moment, predicting as far as he could what would happen if he chose not to reckon with Dwight. It was dicey to rely on the word of a supposed enemy, but what other options did he have? And how could he let Everly stay here much longer? He dropped his fist and backed away from Dwight, allowing him the space to stand up again.

"You better not be lyin' to me," Daryl demanded, and Dwight nodded his head. Daryl had one more thing to add before the conversation went any further. "If it turns out you are, that you're settin' me up somehow, I will fuckin' kill you. I promise ya that."

The two stared at each other, and Dwight eventually stuck out his hand as a sign of good faith. Daryl hesitantly took it.

"I ain't," he said, quoting Daryl, and gave him a crooked smile. "You want some of that booze now?"

* * *

 _"You'll be back, right?"_

 _His ghost was a white light blinding the solitary space and filling me, and I couldn't move, couldn't speak. Sight was a peerless sense, but faithful by my side. When he spoke, it wasn't with his mouth, but it was with his thoughts and he pushed them into my mind like a touch of a feather against my temples._

 _"You won't leave me, will you, Evie?"_

 _He lips rose in the same goofy smile he'd always had, mischievous and childish. And he was a child - so small and so innocent. He'd done no wrong, but his eyes were jaded orbs and they were lonesome. He was mine._

 _"You'll be back."_

 _His lips were moving now and his voice came out in a whisper as he leaned next to my ear, wrapping small, bony arms around me. And I could feel him; feel the warmth draining form his body. And the light, it began to vanish too._

 _"I'm hungry."_

 _The words slipped into a breathless groan as his jaw moved against mine. Pinpricks stimulated my fingers, and I brought my awakening hands to cradle his thin ribcage. I pulled him away from me gently, already smiling and eager to see his face again. But it wasn't the same as before._

 _He was dead, burn marks blossoming from his chin to his belly in a red, poisoned pool._

 _"He made me empty."_

 _He moaned and bared his teeth which were stained red with acidic, bloody vomit. Milky, spiritless eyes searched the air without aim, and his hands reached to cover mine, trying to push them away. But I wouldn't let him as his rigid fingers dug into my skin. He wouldn't be alone anymore._

 _"I'm here. It's okay," I whispered._

 _And I crushed him to my chest, confining his head next to mine as he clawed at my arms. He growled and it was a siren call of forlorn alarm that matched perfectly with the living dead. And I shushed him, stroking his blond head as I brought it down against my neck._

 _"Take me with you," I prayed, and splintered teeth pierced my skin._

I felt warm hands shaking me, holding me down on something both cushioned and hard. I struggled to get up, unable to open my eyes as Mason ripped chunks of flesh from me, but then I was lifted and held against something firm. And I soared out of the illusion and into the day.

I gasped in air, my nails digging into Negan's bare back as he held me against him; and I clung to him, listening to the reassuring murmurs he breathed into my hair. I shuddered and closed my eyes, driving Mason's dead, sorrowful face from the back of my eyelids.

"It's alright, sweetheart. Big Daddy's got you." Negan's attempts at humor fell hard. It made me realize who I had my arms wrapped around. I pushed him away, noticing he at least had jeans on but nothing else.

"What're you doing?" I asked, flustered. I ran a hand through my tangled hair and adjusted my ruffled shirt. My body began to relax as Negan made to slip his hands away, but they lingered at my sides.

"You never told me you had night terrors," Negan accused but his voice was easy.

"I don't," I grumbled and swallowed down a lump.

"You just did," he pointed out with raised eyebrows.

"It's none of your business," I countered with a grimace and scooted painfully against the armrest of the tiny couch I had slept on.

Negan kept his hands in place, and they slid down to my hips as I moved away from him. I waited for him to get up and finish dressing, which he'd apparently been in the middle of when he came to my imagined rescue, but he stayed fix on the cushion by my legs.

"You sore?" He asked benignly. "I can set you up with a nice hot bath. This fucking place even has bath salts if you want to add in a little spice to simmer your soup."

"I'll take it, but I can manage myself," I answered quickly.

I was aching from my shoulders to my toes, but I'd felt much worse, and a steaming bath had my mouth watering.

"You sure you don't want any helping hands? I've got two," Negan offered and held them up for my inspection. "They're quite the magical set, and also great for hard-to-reach places. I have a tingling feeling in the most _generous_ fucking parts of me that you'll have a tough go of hitting certain spots for a while. I just want to extend my help."

"God, do you ever quit?" I snapped and swung my stiff legs from by his side and over the edge of the sofa.

"I wouldn't be myself if I did," he chuckled.

I stood up gingerly while swatting away one of Negan's 'helping' hands.

"I'm fine," I growled.

"Jeeesus, you are fucking _grumpy_ in the morning."

I shot him a glare as he grinned up at me from the loveseat and began to limp to the bathroom door. He laughed again as he watched me.

"You look like you took a hard fist up the ass the night before," he commented and stood up beside me.

"Negan," I warned.

"I get it, you're a big girl and can do it all by your big girl self, but humor me."

I sighed and let him wrap a lending arm around my waist as he assisted me into the bathroom. I leaned against the counter where he directed me and watched him turn the taps of the bath. The noise of rushing water distended the room and Negan came up to me, getting down on his knees. I flinched as he reached toward my thighs.

"What're you doing?" I asked for the second time that morning.

"Getting the bath salts," Negan pointed to the sink with a smirk, and I glanced at the cabinet doors behind my legs.

I narrowed suspicious eyes at him. "Sure."

He gave me a wink and I moved out of his way. I crossed my arms as he reached inside the open door and produced a glitzy box of coconut scented Epsom salt. He shook it at me before closing the cabinet and turning to dispense some of the contents into the rising water.

"You're all set, pumpkin pie. Enjoy yourself."

Negan placed the box on the counter with a smile. I gazed briefly at his topless chest.

"You're being awfully nice for having put me in this position," I observed and diverted my eyes.

"I'm an awfully nice guy," he shrugged and left the room.

I scoffed and slammed the door shut as he exited; nice, my ass. He just liked to pretend. I tore my old t-shirt off, frowning at the soreness in my back and stomach. Although I'd only run, I strained more muscles than I'd thought. Riding in the back of Simon's truck was probably the main cause of my abdominal and back pain, but my nightly jog hadn't helped either.

I shimmied the clean pants I'd put on last night down my legs, bending over with a groan and holding onto the edge of the counter to push them off with one hand. It pissed me off that Negan was right about it being hard to reach certain spots because I could barely stretch a finger past my knees without pain screaming up my legs. With one foot out, I stepped on the bunched pants and pulled out the other. My underwear was much easier, the thinner fabric gliding down my legs mostly on its own.

I remembered Kai and how he'd looked at me the night before. He'd been unnerving. Nearly more than Negan was nowadays, but the true misery was left in wondering what Negan would let him do to me if I pissed him off again. It was clear he respected Kai. Maybe about as much as he respected Simon and they were basically the best of friends. I was aware how Negan felt about me, but it was superficial at best. All that really protected me was the potential between my legs, and I knew that he'd grow tired of that hunt eventually. I just had to wait it out.

That wasn't all I was good for, though. I was going to surprise him with my other abilities just as soon as I had everything figured out. First, I'd have to gather some intel on this place. I had a good heads start thanks to the girl at Somergrove, and I was pondering what I could do when the door clicked open behind me.

"Get out!" I yelled, hiding the back of me against the counter and cupping the lower part of myself.

"Just bringing you your bag," Negan said as he sauntered in, tossing the mentioned item on the floor by the tub. "Figured you'd need what's inside to get squeaky clean."

I threw him daggers with my eyes. There were plenty of moments in my life where I'd been so angry that I was close to violence and this time was one of them. He was fully dressed, his leather jacket and scarf perfectly in place, so it was obvious he made sure to take his time before coming back in. He wanted to catch me like this.

"Fix your face, Everly," he cautioned. "I'm being extra fucking considerate to you today after you promised me last night you'd be a good girl. It'd be a shame if you broke it not even twenty-fucking-four hours in."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I even started counting backwards from ten, but started over at a hundred when that wasn't enough. His reverberating laugh forced my eyes open, it sounded too close to me.

"I've already seen your bruised as hell ass last night, so it's nothing new," he flicked his eyes to the mirror behind me, and I cursed myself for not doing the simplest thing and locking the damn door. "And there is no such thing as privacy when you share a room with me."

Gloved fingers grazed the top of my shoulder as he pushed my hair to the side. His jeaned knees brushed my thighs.

"You need help with this?" He asked, hooking a finger under the strap of my bra.

"No. Please, don't touch me."

He pulled on the strap and let it go with a snap, flashing his straight teeth. He took a step back.

"I'm not trying to be cheeky."

"I didn't think you were." I turned my head away from him to hide what I really thought. "Can I bathe now? Alone?"

My skin burned where I imagine his eyes were and a few seconds passed before he spoke.

"There's food in the room. Make sure you eat when you're done. We won't be here too long."

"Splendid," I replied and waited until I heard the door click shut again to move.

I pressed the button, securing myself inside the room, and I waited for the doorknob to jiggle because I expected Negan to try to come in again, but I heard the door leading out to the hallway open and close instead. I loosened my tense muscles and brought a hand to my head.

"Only a few more days," I promised myself and hoped that to be true. As weird as it seemed, I was ready to be back at the Sanctuary.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Since I couldn't message you back, thank you Starsurfing for your marvelous review. There will be more jealous Daryl, I'm sure, and of course, more drama to follow that.**

 **I was pleased to see that the last chapter wasn't as...hmmm...corny as I thought it might be. I'm kind pushing into unsure territory with Negan and Everly's relationship. I can't decide myself what's gonna happen. AH! HELP! lol**


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

I stuck my head out into the hall, peering both ways to see if anyone was standing guard. When my inquiry came up empty, I moved into the hall and gently closed the door behind me. I wasn't entirely sure if I was allowed to leave the room, but Negan hadn't advised me otherwise and I'd eaten like he asked me to. I threw in some complimentary room service as well, straightening up the room and leaving my packed bag sitting by the door.

I was still sore as hell, the pain in my muscles a sharp reminder of the spectacle I'd made of myself the day before, but the salted bath had helped a tad and I glided down the hallway vigilantly. What I would find was still a mystery, and I hadn't really put forth much of a plan other than exploring the grounds as inconspicuously as possible. I didn't want to poke my nose into the wrong place, but arriving here with Negan as a stranger but part of his crew was a perk. I could play that to my advantage.

The floor we stayed on was mostly empty and boring. There wasn't much to see and it seemed to be the living quarters of the residents here, which made sense. I didn't bother going up to the higher floors as I assumed I'd find the same thing. It was a hotel after all. The real prize probably lied below on the ground floor or in the basement of this place and that's where I headed as I carefully stepped down the stairwell.

 _What am I looking for?_ I pondered

Anything useable, and if these people couldn't be convinced to fight against Negan, I needed to know their strengths and weakness. Could they be taken over and how easy would it be? Where did they keep their weapons? What kind of weapons did they have? How guarded was it? I went ahead and answered that question with a 'not heavily' because this place seemed nearly deserted as I opened the stairwell door on the ground floor and saw no one again.

 _Not to mention the deserted gate. No one had been there._

That was still odd to me. There was no possible way those gates worked on a drive-in sensor. That would be reckless. There had to be a button or remote that was pushed, but I hadn't seen Simon or Negan reach for anything when we arrived. I didn't even remember seeing a call box despite the fact that if there had been one it hadn't been used anyway.

There was the possibility that someone had been at the gates, but I had just failed to observe them. I really didn't get the chance to see if anyone fell behind as the gates were pulled open. We had been the first vehicle through, after all. But they opened automatically, the hinged doors swinging open fluidly, robotically. They were definitely motorized.

So, what option did that leave? More significantly, what did that tell me? The revelation played at the back of my mind like a hiding child. I wanted to find it, to win the game of hide-and-seek, but it kept running away from me. This place was mysterious; still lodged between the edge of past reality and now. Simon had said this place was mostly running; it had power, running water, and usable faculties to name a few. Almost similar to the government built Alexandria, but even its resources were limited. Was that also the case here or was there more to it?

I considered this, and my now dry, but stiff, boots thudded quietly on the compacted carpet as I strolled through the hall. I heard voices drifting down the corridor past the corner that lead to the back terrace. I decided I'd explore there first, working on what I'd say to whomever I found.

 _He's keeping you on your toes_ , I reminded myself. Everything was a surprise when you were constantly left in the dark.

I ventured down the hall, keeping my body close the wall as if it could somehow hide me if anyone came out one of the many rooms. Most of them had labels as I passed by, giving me an idea of what might be inside, but I felt my courage choking when I went to grab a handle. I kept moving to the voices instead, thinking I could at least hear their conversation or sneak a peek inside.

"As you know, our numbers here have stagnated at a smooth one hundred twenty, but we've been actively rotating cadets as more survivors arrive at different communities…like you've asked." An authoritative woman's voice spoke.

"I'm glad to know you've been consistent with your task, Tricia. You're making me giddy with glee over here."

It was Negan's voice and I stopped dead in my tracks a mere few feet away from the open door.

"Thank you, sir." Tricia's voice was laced with gratitude. "It's actually a solid plan. We send out those who are ready to stay at various outposts in a forty mile radius. We get rid of dead ones all over the metro area and scout out potential communities, covering more square miles daily. Sometimes, though, our soldiers do run into trouble and we lose a few. We lost six just three days ago."

I heard a sigh from Negan.

"But, we've been pushing our cadets hard," Tricia backpedaled. "Not just in combat, but in logistics, strategizing, on how to play the field, if you will."

"That's all peachy, Trish. Truly," Negan agreed.

"There is one community we stumbled upon, sir," Tricia sounded strained now, disgusted even. "I'm not sure how to describe them, and at first, I didn't believe the reports myself until I had a look…"

There was a hesitation, and I bent toward the door, thinking I was missing something. Tricia began to speak again, but it was drowned out by the squeak of a chair and boots echoing around the room and they were headed to the door. I hit full panic mode and busted into the nearest room, shutting the door as quickly and silently as I could but it flew back open in the next instant.

I cowered against the wall, pushing into it like I could slip inside of it had I tried hard enough. I thought I was dead meat and I closed my eyes like a child, hoping if I couldn't see them then they wouldn't be able to see me. And it seemed to work because the person who strode in didn't acknowledge me at all.

 _Great getaway, jackass._

And I ground my teeth together. This couldn't be happening. I didn't see who it was. It could be Negan or someone else entirely, and I hadn't noticed what room I was in either. A second later, however, I had a good guess of where I might be when I heard the sound of a zipper and a splashing noise that could be described only as that of someone urinating. A relieved sigh escaped my fellow occupant of which I did not recognize. It wasn't Negan's, so that was a plus, but it didn't make this situation any less mortifying.

Forcing myself to open my eyes, I found the profile of the second most intimidating man I'd met in the past couple years pissing in a urinal; Kai. I closed my eyes again and shook my head. This was too damn ridiculous to be real, but when I looked again I was still in the same place and in the same predicament. The fucking odds were astounding.

 _It's okay. Just ease yourself out._

I slipped achingly slow to my right, reaching out a sightless hand for the doorknob as I went. My fingertips touched the cool metal as Kai finished his business, shaking and tucking himself back in his pants, and turning to the sink behind him. I froze, thinking he'd seen me for sure, but he turned the faucet on and rinsed his hands, checking himself out in the mirror.

 _Think of the chameleons. Be one with the chameleons. You_ are _a chameleon._

The chant was dumb, but it helped ease my mind and I grasped the knob, edging the door open wide enough for me to slip out. I let it go instantly, not caring if it made a noise when it shut. I strode down the hall as fast as my smarting legs would go, willing myself to not break out into a run because that would be too obvious – and painful.

"Yo!" I heard Kai's voice shout from the men's restroom.

Panic was my main motivation now as I flung open another door at random, not daring to glance behind me; partly out of fear of seeing Kai striding after me but also as to not risking the chance of him seeing my face. Plenty of people could look like me from behind…maybe. I just needed to pretend like I belonged in this place. I closed the door behind me and locked it, not really caring for what it held. It was a fucking linen closet, but when the door wasn't broken down immediately, I took it as a good sign that Kai hadn't seen me duck inside at the last second.

If I was going to snoop around, I needed to be more careful. I'd already raised Kai's suspicions and it was too much of a close call. While nothing might have happened to me if I'd been caught in the hallway, I surely was going to receive an earful, or more, for peeping in the men's restroom. I could only imagine the conversation and shit-eating Negan grins now. It wouldn't due to plead for ignorance because then I would be confessing to sneaking around.

I counted to five hundred in my head, buying myself a little time to stack up the courage before going out in the hallway again. I considered calling it quits and going back to the room, but that would be wasteful. I was here for a reason, and not because Negan forced me to be. I was here to learn and that was what I was going to do.

Taking a deep breath, I cracked open the door. I didn't catch anything out of the ordinary; no angry, lurking man demanding to know why I watched him urinate or the like. That was alleviating, so I stepped out, closed the door behind me, and went a different way this time.

The passage routing to the back part of the large foyer of the hotel was clear. It was where Negan led me in the night before, and I smelt a tinge of bleach and lemon as I neared it. The floor must have just been cleaned, probably because of me, but I crossed the floor anyway with an inward smile, my boots squeaking on the granite tiles as I strode over it. Let's see how Kai liked my boot prints.

As I hit the parallel corridor, I tried to appear like I had a purpose, like I actually knew where I was going. A couple of chatty women appeared from a corner in front of me, and I avoided their gaze as I went by them. They didn't even give me a second look, and I felt a bit smug by that. The sight of the two women had me thinking, though. This place was strangely empty for being so big. I hadn't run into hardly anyone as I wandered the sunlight hallways, but the conversation I overheard made it seem like this place should be filled to the brim with people. So, where were they? Some clearly occupied the building now. I bet some of those positions were for those who couldn't fight or were found useful for something else: cleaning, cooking, general maintenance, auto mechanics, and maybe a fully staffed infirmary among other things. The real question I wanted answered was, what else could there be?

I read the signs by the doors again, hoping I'd be given a clue as to what lie behind them without doing too much probing. I didn't bother with the ones that were unassigned. The uncertainty of entering an unmarked room was nerve-wracking given the past twenty minutes of this whole exploration _and_ time was precious. Besides, I'd been met with more than enough surprises and nudity to last me for the day, and I didn't want a repeat.

The unlatching of a door to my right took me by slight surprise, but I steadied myself and prepared to ignore whomever exited the room. Luckily, the man turned opposite of me and headed down the hallway in a jaunty strut, apparently off for lunch or perhaps a bathroom break… Either way, I didn't follow as the sign next to the room he just evacuated caught my attention.

Hotel Security, it read and I had a strong feeling this was the exact room I'd been waiting to find. I shoved my booted foot between the door and the jam before it could close, examining both ends of the corridor before I went inside. I heard voices from the direction the last man went, one of them deep and heavy with a unique northern accent that clearly belonged to Kai.

Not waiting to get caught, I placed my fingers to the door and pushed it open a tad. I grabbed the handle, and sure enough, it was locked. I counted my lucky stars and pushed the door open further, peeking inside to find it unoccupied and dark. Light from multiple screens illuminated the gloomy space, giving it a reminiscent glow of days long gone. The door clicked shut behind me, hopefully not too audibly, as I eyed the contrivances that hummed and ticked, knowing none of it was connected to a server but curious about them anyway. Why would they bother with wasting whatever energy they had on this? Scanning the security monitors, I got a better idea on that reason. Cameras were pinpointed all over Somerset grounds. They captured the front and back foyer, many (but not all) hallways, the hotel grounds which included the front gate (Bingo!), and the field I'd been forced to run on as punishment. It was now engaged by sweaty men and women who ran and performed other drills. Somerset was impressively preserved and now I knew how the gate had opened seemingly on its own the night before.

My eyes scanned across the multiple screens again. At first, nothing looked particularly special. I saw Simon and a few other Saviors in a dining hall having breakfast and relaxing, some Somerset soldiers loitered outside while they watched the trainees jog by with guns raised above their heads. That detail caught my attention because it reminded me of the weapons that must be stored here somewhere, and I wanted to find out how many. The computer Gods must've heard my prayers, because a monitor flipped scenes and lit up a whole room dedicated to the storage and maintenance of various weapons and ammo located in what looked like a concrete basement.

It seemed as if hundreds upon hundreds of armaments were stored here, and not just guns, but military grade artillery and gear such as bazookas, grenades, tactical vests with helmets, and more that I couldn't tell exactly what they were or put a name to. I quickly tried to find some way to identify what part of the building they were in and squeezed the desk I was leaning on as the camera changed to another angle outside of the hallway. I memorized what it looked like, taking mental notes of what hung on the walls and the unique flicker of the corridor light just outside of the room.

I felt satisfied with myself. While it wasn't the greatest revelation to find out just how prepared Negan had made himself, it also wasn't a secret anymore. Information like this was extremely vital and if we were going to start anything, Somerset would need to be taken down first and foremost. I needed to get this news to Rick somehow, and unless I could convince Negan to let me visit Alexandria, or unless Daryl happened to go there on a run, I would have to rely on Dwight to act as messenger. Whether or not he already knew about this place, which I suspected he did, was another question I'd have to ask myself later. Right now, I had to get out of this room before the guard came back and Negan's meeting ended and he realized I was gone.

I looked over the monitors one last time as I began to turn away when the sight of Kai standing in front of a closed door stopped me. I squinted my eyes, wondering what he was doing when a man walked up and joined him at the door. They didn't exchange words, but Kai held out his hand expectantly. The man gave him a quizzical look, but Kai must've said something to him because the man reached to his belt and unclipped a ring of keys. He placed it in Kai's waiting hand before turning around and stiffly walking back the way he'd come.

I shrugged my shoulders, finding the exchange peculiar as Kai chose a key and began to unlock the door of interest. I turned to head out, thinking I'd need to peek around each corner to avoid running into him when I heard the slip of the key and disengagement of the lock leading into the room I was in now.

I didn't have time to think. I barely had time to react as the door swung open and Kai's hulking form blocked the doorway - my only exit. He flipped the keys over in the lock again, checking that the handle was secure before closing the door, trapping me inside alone with him. He had caught me.

I stood there agape, not sure if I should go ahead and beg for mercy or try to talk my way out of whatever he thought I might be doing. All I knew was that it wouldn't look good for me to be standing by myself in the security room of the community he ran.

 _He doesn't know who you are, though, right?_

Maybe! Maybe he didn't know who I was; that I was Negan's prisoner or that I was in here to gather intel on his community's strengths and weaknesses. I could use his ignorance to my advantage; tell him Negan sent me as a precaution to check up on Somerset's efficacy. That could be believable if I spun it the right way. I just had to make sure my social awkwardness didn't sell me out.

Kai tucked the keys into his pocket, his face a hard, unreadable mask as his brows furrowed marginally. He held his hands together in front of him, his right hand gripping the other, and he adjusted his shoulders and sighed through his nose as he studied me.

I knitted my brows back at him, trying to pretend like I didn't know why he was here interrupting my business. I put my hand on my hip casually as I waited for him to speak. It wasn't entirely safe for me to try to talk at this moment or I might give myself away the instant I did.

"Ya think ya foolin' me?" He finally asked, cocking his head to the side.

I straightened, gripping the bottom my jacket nervously in both hands. "Fooling you? I don't know what you mean."

"You prancing around here, sticking ya nose where it don't belong," he said.

"I'm perusing on Negan's orders. He requested that I survey the premises to make sure everything was still up to par security wise. So far, so good," I smiled tightly at him but the waver in my voice didn't go unnoticed by me or him. My stomach began to drop when he smirked and let out short laugh through his nose.

"You his security detail?" Kai asked, looking me up and down. "I thought you was more of a play thing."

"No," I spoke through my teeth. "I _work_ for Negan. He made it clear that he set some high expectations for your group and I'm his coadjutant. I go behind him and double check everything. See if there are any cracks that need mending or…heads to bend to Lucille."

Kai raise his lips in a smile then, showing clean, white teeth. "Clever, but nah. Negan has Simon for that _if_ that was something he needed done, but it ain't. And that doesn't even bring up the fact that I've ever seen your face before now… You and I both know that you're tryin' to spoon feed me bullshit, honey, and I ain't fuckin' bittin'."

"Well, you clearly know less than you think you do," I countered.

"That so?" Kai raised his pierced eyebrow. "Funny, because I didn't think it was customary for Negan's lieutenants to do a security sweep in the men's bathroom."

My heart stopped then. It might have been obvious how much shit I was trying to spin before but there was no denying it now. I wasn't as inconspicuous as I tried to be - so much for being a fucking chameleon.

"You're a fuckin' spy," Kai accused.

"No." The reply was short and a lie, but it was all I could manage at the moment.

"Yes," Kai affirmed with a nod of his head. "You are."

"I'm not a spy. I work for Negan." It was a weak attempt to convince him, but I said it regardless.

"Nah, shut ya mouth because that's what every fuckin' spy says when they're called out on being a spy, it's practically textbook."

He unclasped his hands and walked closer to me, and instinctively, I backed away. I bumped into the computer chair situated by the desk and it rotated from the momentum.

"Whadya say your name was again?"

"Everly," I whispered.

"Yeah, that's right. Weird fuckin' name," Kai commented as he continued advancing toward me. "Well, Everly, we've got a problem, don't we? A spy, you, is roving around my compound, lookin' at all the ins and outs, learnin' the tricks, but then I catch you red handed. I'd say that's a pretty good break for me, but you… Well, let's just say you ain't gonna get off so easy."

"You can't hurt me," I stated stupidly as the backs of my thighs hit the desk. He could whatever he wanted to me at this moment and no one would be the wiser.

"On the contrary," Kai said, slamming his hand down on top of the now computer chair, stilling it. "What do you think Negan will say if he finds out?"

I swallowed and bravely said, "I don't know. Let's go get him and see."

Kai laughed at that, pushing the chair out of his way. He came up to stand in front of me and brought up a finger to my jacket, flipping the zipper head back and forth.

"Or," he began and, thankfully, folded his arms, "I could pretend like I didn't see a thing, like I didn't see you sneaking out of the bathroom after you were done watching me…"

"I wasn't watching you," I stammered but he covered my mouth with his hand.

"And there ain't living dead people outside killin' anything that moves," he hit back with a soft raise of this lips and let me go. "Listen, if you want me to bite my tongue on this, you're gonna have to do somethin' for me."

"I'm not doing anything with you."

"Do you have selective fuckin' hearing?" He asked looking affronted now. "I'm not gonna blackmail ya into fuckin' me. I said _for_ me, not slam yourself down on ya knees and suck my dick."

"Okay," I said defensively, pulling on the bottom of my jacket again.

Kai eyed me from head to toe once more before releasing another short laugh. "While it would be tempting to take the pussy train, I'm not a carbon copy of Negan. Besides, he doesn't like to share much."

"What do you want?" I blurted, wanting this conversation over with.

"I want what any other bastard like me has been scramblin' for: world domination."

I screwed up my face and he let out a barking laugh.

"Kidding, spy," he smacked the side of my arm roughly, "but I'm not. I'll be humble and say that I'll take what Negan's got. I'll work on the rest myself."

I nodded but didn't really understand. "World domination?"

Kai let out a big sigh. "It was a fuckin' joke, Jesus Christ. Did humor die with fuckin' humanity too? Fuck sakes."

"Okay, you want what Negan's built. Great. I'll be sure to hand you that one a silver fucking platter just as soon as I'm able to cut off his head."

I went to storm past him, but Kai caught my arm and pushed me back. He pinned me against the desk, his knees digging into my sensitive thighs.

"This isn't some fuckin' game. I'm serious," he glowered. "All jokes aside, I'm happy with the position I have now. I respect that fuckin' asshole out there, but if it came to it, I'd sink a ten inch blade in his back if it meant I could take over. What I'm asking in return for my silence is that opportunity."

"I don't know if I can give you that," I answered truthfully. The whole point of getting rid of Negan was to be _rid_ of him, not replace him, but I didn't say that.

"Well, figure it the fuck out," he demanded. "I am gonna bust ya, though. We're gonna go see Negan and I'll tell him I found ya skirtin' the halls. You ain't supposed to be outta the room, are ya?"

He narrowed his eyes down at me and I shrugged because I really had no idea what restrictions I had here.

"So, what are ya then? Ya ain't a wife 'cause I never seen one of them broads nowhere 'cept the Sanctuary. You ain't a fucking lieutenant either, spy," Kai stopped his musings and gave me back my space, but stayed close as he leaned back on the desk beside me. "You a pawn? You an anvil over someone's head?"

"For lack of better words," I conceded.

"What's ya story then? Tell me who you're a spy for."

And I told him. I told him how we'd been cornered by Negan's men, and fearing for our livelihood and safety, we ambushed them without realizing the bite we'd taken was much more than we could chew. In fact, we'd begun to choke on it and it was only by Negan's 'saving grace' that whoever was left of us were still breathing. I left out Hilltop's blessing to go after Negan, not wanting to drag them into this in case I was setting myself up by sharing my side with Kai. I couldn't even begin to trust him, but he'd caught me in a tight spot and I felt there was no other option. The pride I'd felt earlier had quickly soured into the self-loathing, and I crossed my arms angrily as I finished.

"Damn, spy! This is some drama series shit. I could write that whole thing up and call it "Survivors of the Risen Dead" or "What Happens When You Make Stupid Fucking Decisions."

Kai barked out a hearty laugh as he finished speaking. I wasn't in the position to appreciate the joke at the moment, but he had a point. We had been dumb and I felt like we kept repeating ourselves. I certainly wasn't of any help.

"Why are you coming to me with this?" I questioned, suddenly confused. "Why not just do it yourself?"

"Well, other than being a doxy, it wasn't until I caught you in here being a fuckin' spy that I figured out what ya were. Negan is an ambitious guy. He's smart and he takes opportunities as they come at him, but only the good ones. I've learned that from him, and now, I'm ready to do the same. You don't work under someone as powerful as Negan and not take any fuckin' notes. I've got a whole manuscript stored up in here," Kai tapped his temple and mimicked me by crossing his arms. "On the easy side, when it's your word versus mine, spy, who do you think he'll believe?"

"Point taken," I admitted. I let out a heavy breath, but kept my tumbling thoughts and questions to myself. My gut remained unconvinced of his truth. He may want what Negan has, but he had the means to do so himself right under our feet. Why take the chance of using me and blowing his cover?

"I could take Negan out myself and stir up some shit, sure. But what good would that do me? I'd be a fucking traitor. No one wants to follow a traitor."

"Or people would see you as stronger," I reasoned. "They'd be afraid of you."

"They already are," he winked down at me. "But I can't have some other asshole catchin' any bright ideas, and I don't want to look like no asshole either."

I rolled my eyes. "I think that comes with the territory."

"Maybe so, but imagine how much sweeter life will be with me, ya new best friend, takin' things over," Kai whispered. He nudged me softly with his shoulder. "I didn't take ya from your group or kill any of your friends. I'll do the opposite. We'll make a deal; one that we're all happy with. No demands, no requirements. It'll be an equal give and take."

"I don't know."

"See it this way… You and I are in the same boat now, spy. I got info on you, you got info on me. We can depend on each other to get what we want," Kai shrugged and smiled to himself. "I ain't truly unsatisfied with this get-up. It has more ups than downs, but there comes a point where complaisance can become… _so_ … _boring_. Ugh!"

He shook his head and gazed down at me. "Look at me here, yappin' my trap while you're sittin' over there confused and trying not to piss yaself. I've got you in a tough situation, I'm aware, and sorry it had to be this way, but enemies can be allies. Whadya say? Can I get in on this gravy train?"

"I have no way of guaranteeing you anything, but I'll try."

"Nah-uh, I need that grade A fuckin' guarantee or there ain't no you and me, nothing."

"I'll work on it!" I was exasperated. "What exactly do you think I can do? I've got my hands figuratively tied behind my back and you just added five extra cinches!"

"Okay, take it easy there. I already said I'd scratch your back if you scratch mine. No need to lose ya fuckin' head."

Kai took my upper arms in his hands and squeezed, trying to calm me down. It didn't help much.

"Look, if I was gonna rat you out, I would've done it by now."

I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying figure out how to get out of this mess. I had royally fucked-up. There was no way I could believe in Kai. There was a large screaming part of me that smelled the fucking trap as I bit into the poison, but it was too late now. Kai knew what I was doing, he knew I was part of a group that planned to take out Negan, and he balanced our success or failure, our lives or deaths, in his hands. He offered me a deal, but who's to say it wasn't a mockery?

"Rat me out," I requested.

"What?"

"Rat me out. It's the only way I'll trust you. Tell Negan you found me here, that I was snooping around. I'll be punished, but you can still do something. Contact Dwight. He'll know what to do."

"Wait, Dwight's in on this shit? Can't say I'm shocked, but fuck!"

"Do it," I demanded. "I won't bring my group into it, but Negan will question them anyway. If you're for real, have Dwight go to them or you two go together somehow. I don't know! Just tell them what happened."

"And if they don't believe us?" Kai asked shrewdly. That was a high possibility.

"Bring them guns, weapons, ammo… They'll believe you then. I'll send Dwight to you if I can."

Kai watched me in silence for a moment, weighing his options. I was asking him to take action before he was promised anything, but this all banked on him. When he nodded his head, his mouth in a firm line, it seemed as if he realized that.

"Okay, spy. I'll lead the way."

"Fuck," I whispered to myself, but this was the only viable option I could think of.

Kai went to the door and I followed him out, fisting my sweating hands as they began to shake. My life wasn't the only one in jeopardy because of my mistake. I'd been too determined and now Alexandria might have to pay the price for me. I had to convince Negan I acted alone, that I set out on this autonomously. He may believe me but…maybe he wouldn't.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Everly's done goofed, y'all. Do you guys believe Kai or has Everly ruined everything? Does it seem too convenient? Is it an interesting turn of events? I guess we'll see how sincere Kai is as the story progresses!**


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

Moments after leaving Dwight's room, Daryl found himself striding through the musky halls aimlessly. He was trying to burn off steam, his head pounding as he wound around each corner perilously. He thrust open a door leading to a stairwell and took the steps down three at a time, plunging himself deeper into the underbelly of the Sanctuary. He wasn't sure where he was heading until he found himself in front of the doors that opened into the hideaway. He didn't think he'd find much here at this time of day, but he pushed on the bar handle and went inside.

Just as he assumed, the typical hang out for the Sanctuary dwellers was empty save for a few random ones here and there. No music played and the cue balls on the pool tables lay motionless, abandoned. Only a scattering of anonymous voices and the rattling glasses marked the air. He scanned the few bodies that did occupy the room, but didn't see the one he wanted, and he wasn't sure where to find her. So, he turned around and left, thinking maybe he could locate Roxanne at a different time; perhaps tonight. He needed to speak with her and now would be better than later, but he had no clue where else to search for her.

He hit the stairs again, leaping three or four stairs at a time as he went up. It helped being physical. It released some of the tension, worry, and agony he'd felt for the past week. Not knowing where Everly was or if she was safe, searching high and low for Dr. Carson in a ghost town, and then watching him and his brother be beaten had left Daryl anxious. He hated the feeling. It reminded him too much of his upbringing and made him expect the worst.

His conversation with Dwight hadn't been of much help either, proving to set him closer to the edge. It was news he'd been waiting for, sure. It was what he'd been chasing after since he had been caught in the woods and shot by the scarred asshole, but it all seemed lackluster now. He didn't believe in it. Not until he was actually outside of these imprisoning walls and his breath mingled with the fresh air as Everly ran by his side. He'd believe it then when he was with her, free.

Daryl wasn't sure it was right to trust in Dwight's word. He'd done nothing but prove himself an adversary since the fateful day he'd met him hiding in the woods with Sherry and her sister. He could forgive him for that initial exchange. Dwight was just trying to keep himself and his family alive. That all changed the day he killed Denise using Daryl's own crossbow. He'd gone running back to the enemy knowing full well what he was getting into - survival or not - and sacrificed everything. He was a rat, a coward…but he was all Daryl had.

There was one other person Daryl could talk to. Someone he had a spare amount of trust for. Sherry seemed sincere if not compliant, which was surely coerced, and Daryl knew where to find her. Negan had made it a point to showcase his wives to him when he'd first arrived, trying desperately to show Daryl how good he could make it for him if he'd give in and comply. Daryl had found it all contrived and deplorable. He felt sorry for all the women who had to give up everything to not be bottom feeders anymore, and Daryl was of the opinion that the exchange wasn't worth it, but he didn't fault them for their decisions.

He kept climbing the stairs, ignoring the door that opened to the hallway his room belonged to. He could go to his shack of a room and sleep but that would be counterproductive. While Dwight had given him enough booze to help him in the counting sheep department, the farther up Daryl went, the more his courage built. Sherry might know things. She could maybe help him trust Dwight more and provide some tidbits on Negan. She, of course, _did_ sleep with the enemy.

What worried Daryl the most was how he and Everly would execute Dwight's plan. He said he'd been working on it for himself and Sherry for months yet they were still here. He found it more puzzling that Dwight had been sitting on that loaded gun but never shot it. Was he scared to leave again? Scared Sherry would wind up like her sister, Tina? Or did Sherry not want to leave? Daryl figured she held those answers and he was determined to hear them.

He made it to the floor Negan and his wives lived on. There would assumedly be guards posted on this hall but Daryl found the corridors empty when he exited the stairwell. He didn't take a second to look around, but strode up to the double doors of the lounge room Negan's wives spent their days in and knocked on the door.

A short brunette answered, blinking up at him curiously.

"Sherry here?" Daryl spoke first.

"Who are you?" The brunette asked, looking Daryl up and down in suspicion.

A small, tan hand shot out and gripped the door, pulling in farther open. Sherry stood by the other woman, giving Daryl an intense stare. She turned to her sister wife.

"It's okay, Tanya. I got it."

The brunette gave Daryl one last look before nodding to Sherry and left. Sherry poked her head out looking up and down the hall before grabbing him by the shirt and tugging him inside.

"Are you trying to get into trouble?" Sherry questioned him as soon as she shut the door.

Daryl mumbled a 'no' as he gazed around at Negan's wives. They all stared at him from various spots in the room apprehensively, a look of worry marking each of their faces. Daryl looked to Sherry who sighed and grabbed his hand.

"Come with me."

She took him to another door and ushered him inside before closing it to give them privacy. Sherry faced the door for a moment while Daryl glanced around the room sparingly. He settled his attention on her as she slowly turned to face him.

"What are you doing here, Daryl?"

"I just spoke with Dwight," Daryl started. He gestured to the door. "He told me somethin' I never thought I'd hear come out of his mouth."

Sherry crossed her arms and set a steady gaze on Daryl. He got the sense she knew what he was talking about and when she didn't respond, he kept talking.

"He told me there was a cabin thirty miles west of here in the woods…by the Potomac River. He said Everly and I could escape and…go there."

Daryl stopped then, wanting to see and hear Sherry's reaction before going further. She nodded her head, a small looking of disappointment rising to the surface under the vacant mask she always wore.

"You should go," Sherry conceded.

"You don't want to?" Daryl questioned. This was the answer he wanted most. If Sherry didn't want to leave when it was obvious how trapped she felt, how miserable she was, then he knew Dwight was baiting him.

"I can't," she whispered, looking away from him then.

"Why?" Daryl demanded, his voice deepening as he stepped toward her.

"Because I have other matters to take care of here." Sherry shot him a reproachful gaze. She uncrossed her arms and began to pace the small room. "I have plans that…aren't complete yet. I can't leave until I finish them."

"Then why not do that and leave?"

"That's not how it works, Daryl," Sherry shook her head and continued to pace.

"Then explain it to me because I'm havin' a hard time trustin' your _ex_ -husband."

Sherry stopped her oscillating motion and wrung her hands together. She closed her eyes at his usage of the term 'ex-husband' and took a deep breath before replying.

"You are the plan Daryl." She turned to face him then and looked him square in the eyes. "You and Everly both. I wanted to leave and I almost did, but there is too much left here that's unfinished. You need to make it back to Alexandria, the Hilltop, somewhere that isn't here so we can win this thing."

Daryl took a moment to process her words. Dwight hadn't mentioned any of this. He only told Daryl how to make it the fuck out of here and to this alleged safe haven after he and Everly managed to flee. The mode on how they were going to get out was a challenge. It was suspended up in the air, dangling just out of reach, but Dwight said he was working on figuring that out. Daryl resolved to keep breathing until he brought him a solution. Sherry must have seen the cranks working in his brain because she began speaking before Daryl could form another thought.

"Dwight and I haven't totally agreed on the best course of action yet, but this one is mine and I want you to take it. We could go but…it would only be an echo of what happened before. I'm not making that mistake again," Sherry's voice was almost desperate now as she walked up to him and took his hands. "Dwight has been giving information to Alexandria but it's becoming more and more dangerous. If he's ever found out, all of this is over. That's why you need to make it out. You know this place and the people who live in it. You know its weaknesses and the driving force behind the Saviors.

"You need to exploit their weaknesses on the outside while we manipulate it on the inside. Together, we can tear this place down brick by brick and send it up in flames. Please trust us. I know it's a lot to ask, but please."

Sherry's hands were clamped on his and their strength surprised him. They studied each other, Sherry pleading and expectant while Daryl gradually felt himself believing in her aim. It made more sense to him now, and he found that he was ready to take part of their plan.

"What will you do here?" Daryl questioned. He wanted to know as much of the picture as possible.

Sherry let go of him, taking a step back and breathing in deeply. "There is a small group of us waiting… We're waiting for something to happen so we can strike. We want to kill Negan, but we have to abide by the rules until the right time or it'll all be lost. Is any of this making sense to you?"

"Yeah," Daryl held up a forgiving hand. "I just wanna know the details if I'm the one who's riskin' my life by runnin' away. Not to mention, Everly's too."

"But it's what you want, right?" Sherry seemed unsure now.

"It is, but now that I've seen it from the Savior side, I understand the wagers. They ain't great."

"And that's just it!" Sherry was getting excited now. "You _do_ know how it works. You've been the one to search and find someone. You're an expert at tracking… I bet you're an expert at hiding, too."

Daryl was intrigued. She was right. He was good at hiding his footsteps, leaving no trace of when he came and went. The only problem would be Everly. She wasn't as keen as him in that sense and she was clumsy as hell. It would be harder with her, but worth it, and Daryl accepted he could get her out of here and safely to the cabin without a trail.

"Tell Dwight he needs to work on a way to get us out. I tried that once and it didn't go so well."

"I know," Sherry smiled sadly. "We're already figuring something out. There's going to be another outing soon. A growing gang of the dead ones are up North, not far from where Negan is at now. It's becoming almost too much for the patrol posts to handle on their own. I'm thinking that'll be a good time to cut loose and run."

"You think he'll let Everly go on that?" Daryl questioned.

"I'm not sure, but she's going regardless. Don't worry about that."

Daryl nodded, his confidence growing. He was glad he thought to come up and talk to Sherry. It had all the fighting instincts in him calming. Then he thought about the five other women in the room beyond.

"Do they know?" Daryl pointed to the door.

"Somewhat," Sherry nodded, but her voice became more hushed. "They want out just as much as I do, but they aren't cognizant of everything. Just in case one of them accidentally slips up, Dwight and I decided to keep things low key until the time gets closer."

"When will you know?"

"When you bring death to Negan's door."

* * *

I walked behind Kia and rubbed my thumbs against my fingers. My hands were beginning to sweat and the moisture made my skin slick, smooth. I was hoping that was how I would be able to pull this next stunt off. Remain slick and smooth while Negan scoured me with one of his menacing glares. I was letting Kai rat me out, but I was also going to attempt to talk my way out of any repercussions. Negan would be hard to convince, though. If he believed I had been acting innocently, he'd probably castigate me anyway for the fun of it.

Kai led me to the same door I had been eavesdropping by earlier. He strode through the doorway and I reluctantly slunk in behind him, flitting my eyes over the room sheepishly. I'd put out the naiveté first and pretend to be unaware of any wrongdoing, but I was ready to flip over to nonchalance in a second.

 _Deny, deny, deny_ was my mantra. I wouldn't admit anything.

Negan gave me a speculative look when I came into the room and squinted his eyes in suspicion at me. He moved them to Kai, raising his eyebrows in question, but remained sitting in a highback leather swivel chair, his head resting in his left hand.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Negan asked.

"Found her sniffin' around like a little mouse looking for some crumbs," Kai glanced at me, his expression hard. "Seems like she found some."

"Seems like?" Negan asked him with a small smile.

"Did and discovered," Kai corrected. "She was in the security room, studyin' the security monitors. She got an eye full."

"Is that so?" Negan gave me his full attention now. His smirk was still present but I could clearly see the irritation behind it. He rubbed his gloved fingers together, the leather squeaking with the pressure.

 _Slick and smooth_ , I whispered in my head.

"I-I didn't mean to…," I began and stopped. I took a deep breath and swallowed. "I was just looking around. I was bored and curious. I wasn't looking for anything in particular. I just happened to stumble across the security room and it grabbed my attention."

When Negan didn't say anything, I shifted on my feet, trying to find comfort somewhere. My legs hurt, and I was subconsciously straining even muscle in my body no matter how hard I tried to relax. I glanced to my right, fully observing the woman who must be Tricia watching me with an impenetrable expression. She was older, around Negan's age, and she looked like a straight out bitch.

"You just happened," Negan finally spoke. He stated the words like he was tasting them, rolling them around on his tongue like he was trying to figure them out. "You just happened?"

I nodded, not wanting to give a further explanation until I could think of a plausible one. I heard Tricia give out a snort of derision and I let my eyes fall to my feet. I felt chastised and childish and barely anything had happened yet. I hoped that it showed on my face because that was exactly what I was going for.

I heard the straining squeak of leather as Negan began to move. He took a few steps to close the distance between us until I could see his boots and shins in my field of view; Lucille's barbed head suspended in the air by his legs. Kai remained silent and stoic to my left, his hands folded in front of himself, and I could feel his eyes on me. I could feel everyone's eyes on me. When the silence lengthened, I reluctantly lifted my head and locked eyes with Negan. He did not look happy.

"Would you give us the room?"

Tricia strode out so quickly it was like she'd never even been there. Kai took his time, though, and I glanced over to see him smirking down at me. It looked mocking, and maybe it was supposed to be, but I tried to tell myself he was on my side – for now, at least. It wasn't much of a leap for Kai to turn me in. Whether he had kept his mouth shut or not, he was getting something out of it, and I had lied when I said I would trust him if he ratted me out; I never would. But he had listened to me and done what I'd asked. Still, it was like playing with matches and gasoline to rely on his honor, or lack thereof, to follow through with the other half of my request.

"Trish and I will be waitin' in the hall," he told Negan. He bent down next to me, splitting his face into a wide grin. He gave me a wink and sauntered out of the door, pulling it shut behind him.

I turned back to Negan, tugging on the bottom of my jacket. It was my nervous tick of the morning, I supposed, and no wonder. The way Negan was looking at me, it was hard to feel anything but apprehensive.

"I swear," I promised, and Negan scowled down at me. "You never said I couldn't leave the room."

"You did swear," he reminded me.

"Yes," I nodded, "and I didn't break it."

Negan said nothing again, but he started to walk past my left side while tapping Lucille against his leg. He came around to my right all the while glaring down at me, and Lucille whined, _thwap_ , _thwap_ , _thwap_ , as she hit his calf repeatedly like a pendulum.

"What do you think I should do with you?" He asked.

"Nothing," I answered readily. "I did nothing wrong."

 _THWAP!_

Lucille bit into the wood of the conference table. She left shallow scars in the varnish and my fingernails sunk into the fabric of my jacket. I tried to steady myself as I began to shake slightly, but I held my ground.

"Do not lie to me," Negan demanded, each word enunciated precisely.

"I'm not," I whispered, and Negan fastened his fingers in my hair.

He wasn't gentle, but he wasn't brutal either. He pulled my head back, forcing me to gaze up at him. I swallowed noisily, my throat straining uncomfortably as I did so, and I held his disappointed stare.

"I didn't mean to cause trouble."

And that was the truth because I hadn't intended for there to be any. I just happen to be unlucky and stupid enough to get caught. _But what did he have on me, really?_ I thought. Sure, I was found in the security room studying the resort grounds, but Negan virtually kept me under lock and key. In his mind, there should be no way for me to use what I gleaned from the security room. I had no one to work with but Daryl, and how far had we gotten before? We were barely on speaking terms now… Negan had absolutely nothing to go on.

"I saw things, yes," I reasoned with him. "I know more things now that I did an hour ago, but that doesn't mean anything. If I'm going to work for you, be a soldier for your army, don't you think I would learn about these things eventually?"

"That doesn't negate the fact that you were up to no fucking good," Negan retorted.

"I wasn-"

"You _were_!" Negan roared. The tip of his nose was touching mine now. "You disobeyed me… _again_."

"Why is it always this way with you?" I yelled back and shoved his chest. He stayed plastered against me. "I can't do anything without it being suspicious! If you want me to trust you, Negan, you have to trust me, too! It can't be one-fucking-sided or else we'll be doing this shit until one of us kills the other!"

He pushed me then, against the table like he had the first time I met him in his office. And just like then, he was on me, and Lucille was discarded in a chair. His hand was still in my hair and he used his other one to grab hold of my collar as he pressed against me. His mouth covered mine, and I flinched back, shocked, but we didn't break apart.

He tried to get me to open to him as his tongue brushed against my lips, but I protested with an earnest hum and pushed against his shoulders as he continued to hold me close. His grip slackened enough then for me to move away, but I stayed rigid and he didn't back away either. His lips still held mine and they moved slowly, allowing me the room to move away if I wanted.

But I didn't.

Why? I didn't dwell on the reason and tried not to feel guilty.

Negan let go of my jacket, sliding his gloved hand down to cradle my waist. The movement startled me and I pulled from the kiss. I was confused and suddenly shy. I wanted to run back up to the room and hide under the covers until the sun went down. I couldn't explain myself and I wasn't sure that I wanted to.

 _You liked it_ , my inner self-loathing seemed to whisper.

 _Shut up!_ I screamed back. That wasn't what happened, and as I convinced myself of such, Daryl pushed his way into my mind. I bit my lip to distract myself.

I blinked up at Negan and searched his face for an explanation. I thought he was angry with me, not getting all hot and bothered. He was like a switch; flipped one way and the next second, the other. And as I thought more about it, my ire began to grow. He promised he wouldn't do something like this again. Not without my consent.

I attempted to stand on my own and push away from the table, away from him, but he wouldn't let me back away. He hugged me close to his chest, and the hand that had nested in my hair began to move to my face, caressing it.

"I'll trust you, Everly, when you stop fighting against me," Negan said, his voice husky.

"Negan," I started to argue, but sighed when an appropriate response failed me.

A smile grew on his face, and he bent his head down again as if to kiss me. He stopped right before touching my lips, the whiskers of his newly growing beard and mustache tickling me.

"If I catch you nosing around without my permission again I'll bend you over my knee and spank the seven shades of hell out of your bare ass," he whispered and let out a quick laugh. "Who knows? You might fucking enjoy it."

"Let go of me," I demanded.

"If you ask nicely," Negan replied as the corners of his mouth dimpled his cheeks.

"Please, let go of me before I scream," I tried again.

"That's a little better, but not great," he said and dropped his hands from me, backing off a couple of steps.

He ran a hand on Lucille's hilt as he watched me adjust myself, and I glared up at him.

"You know, I tell you to stop giving me that fucking stink eye, but I'll be honest," the tip of his tongue massaged the corner of his lip, "it has fuckin' grown on me."

"You know," I mocked him, placing a hand on my hip, " _you_ promised _me_ that you wouldn't pull the shit you just did again unless I welcomed it."

"You weren't welcome to it?" Negan began to frown with concern. His arms went limp and his fingers dangled loosely on Lucille's end. "I know I came onto you mighty strong, but I gave you the chance to move away…"

I crossed my arms and gave a slight eye roll as he began to smile. He was trying to corner me.

"You shocked me. I had a delayed reaction."

"Uh huh," he muttered, stepping up close to me again. He pulled on one of my loose curls. "You let me linger long enough to tell me that not _everything_ between us is one-fucking-sided."

My face grew hot. I could feel it burning me up.

"Were you even really mad at me?" I demanded, practically yelling. "Or does the sight of me submissive and intimidated make you hard?"

"Quite fucking so. Why don't you feel for yourself?" Negan asked and grabbed my hand. I yanked it away from him quickly and side stepped him.

"Don't play with me, Negan," I cautioned.

"Aw, but it's so much fun," he smiled with a laugh.

I leaned over to him and looked him dead in the eye. "You make my life a fucking nightmare."

"Everly," he called with a playful sigh as I went to the door. I heard his footsteps behind me and he followed as I opened the door and stomped out into the hallway.

Kai perked up when we appeared, and he gave me a devilish grin as I marched near him.

"I don't see any shiners on ya. That mouth of yours must be pretty convincin'."

I sneered at him as I passed and he gave me a wink in return. I heard Negan address Kai and Tricia behind me, but I soon heard his rapidly approaching footsteps. I dashed into the stairwell and bounded up the stairs two at a time despite my screaming muscles, trying vainly to lose him. It didn't take long for Negan to catch up, however. He grabbed me by the shoulder and twisted me around.

"Be careful!" I scolded as I almost lost my balance on the steps. He steadied me with the solidity of his hand.

"Listen," he said, gazing at me with a coltish grin, "I love these sexy little impromptu meetings we've been having in this stairwell, but you don't get to walk away from me with the last damn word. You know me fucking better than that."

"Then spew out whatever shit that's been clogged up in your mouth and be done with it. I have a wall to stare at." I shrugged his hand off of me.

"Everly," he said with a breathy, short laugh, "you're making this really hard for me. Or rather, you're making _it_ …really hard for me."

I scoffed at him, balling my right hand into a fist. I was readying to punch him square in the nose, and he must have been able to tell because the smirk on his face bloomed into full a blown, cheek-splitting smile. I started up the stairs once more at my original pace, and like before, Negan followed but silently this time.

When I reached our door, I went for the handle, wanting to slid inside and lock it before he could follow, but it was currently locked. I tried it again, somehow hoping for a different result regardless of knowing there wouldn't be one. Negan strolled up behind me, his boots dragging on the carpet noisily to let me know he was there. Out of sheer impulse, I punched the door and immediately regretted it.

"Fucking… Shit!" I bent over my hand, cradling it against my chest while feeling like an idiot.

Negan leaned on the wall by me with his arms folded in front of him. He was enjoying the show and Lucille seemed to be too as she lounged beside him in a similar manner. The glints off of her wires looked like laughter.

"Stop. Fucking. Smiling at me."

I was done with this game and I was done with him. He chose not to oblige me and remained in place with the same bemused expression.

"I was mad at you… At first, anyway, but you did make a good point when you brought up our status with trust. And you're right," Negan shrugged lightheartedly. "I've got to cut you loose sometime. Let your little baby bird wings flap until you fly or break them while trying, right?"

I didn't answer him. I was still seething up at him through the hair that had fallen in my face with my asinine outburst. He pushed off the wall and stood before me, planting each foot hip width apart. He put his hands behind his back and gazed down at me with a cocky smirk.

"Hit me," he said, and surprise temporarily replaced the anger I felt and the throbbing pain in my knuckles.

"Hit you?" I asked.

"I know you want to," he teased.

My brows twitched as I considered what he meant. Surely he didn't want me to _actually_ hit him, but he stood there, hands out of the way, his head held back, and waiting. I looked around briefly, thinking maybe some of his men would pop out behind the waiting doors like jack-in-the-boxes but they would possess knives instead of a chuckle.

"Just…punch you?" I confirmed.

"Just punch me," he clarified, but hastily added, "You only get one, though. So make it count."

"Okay," I agreed impulsively, and without hesitation, I reared back the hand I just smashed against the door and landed it on the side of Negan's jaw.

We both stumbled back in pain. Negan held the side of his face and I fell to my knees, clutching my hand in agony. We'd both made grunts of discomfort upon impact, but I think mine might have been more of a scream.

"Mercy me, that was fucking _loaded_ ," Negan exclaimed and laughed. He rubbed his jaw while moving it back and forth. "Shit."

"Where's Simon?" I asked truly curious because he was going to be next.

This made Negan laugh again. It was a genuine, deep-from-the-belly laugh, and he came to me to help me up, taking my battered hand in his and rubbing it, almost lovingly, as he held it to his chest.

"Marry me," he said.

"Excuse me?" I exclaimed.

"I want you to marry me, Everly," he repeated more seriously.

"No," I shook my head and pulled my hand away from him. "I love Daryl."

He scoffed casually but I could tell my refusal stung his ego a bit.

"That's fine," he said with a small lift of his lips. "I can't get in the way of that, but if you change your mind-"

"I won't."

"Okay," he grinned. "When _Daryl changes your mind_ because he _will_ fuck up again. That is inevitable."

"Fuck you," I whispered.

"I'll be more than goddamn happy to do that," he retorted. "After, you can take my offer to marry me if you'd like, but I will say it does expire. So don't take too damn long to consider it because by then I might've moved on and into someone else, and you'll be left with shit."

"Better that than you," I spat at him. "Open the door."

"Sure thing, sweetheart," he replied sweetly.

He went to the door and slipped a key inside the knob, but the next moment he was facing me and his arm found a way around my hip. He gripped the back of my upper thigh tightly, squeezing the sore muscle cruelly. I gasped in pain and struggled to push him away, but he pulled me into him in a troubled embrace.

"No matter our status," he whispered through his teeth, "this will always belong to me. You don't get away with the shit you've been pullin' when you work for me, so take this trip as a lesson and apply what you've learned to everyday life because it counts now. It counts for you and it counts for anyone else you know. _Anyone_."

I knew what he meant. If I ever betrayed him and used what I'd learned against him, he'd killed anyone who helped me, anyone who I cared about, and then, if he was feeling merciful, he would kill me.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Everly managed to talk her way out of trouble. Do you think Negan will start trusting her now or no? I say only time will tell, but knowing Everly, she'll let her true intentions be known soon enough. ;)**

 **Sorry you guys had to wait a couple of extra days to get this one. I was going to wait until tomorrow to post it, but I figured this chapter was already done and waiting. My new schedule for updates will be Monday evenings from now on. With school starting back soon, I think it'll be best for me while I try to get back into the groove of things (and waking up early again, UGH!). That way, I'll have time to sleep, rest up, and be more coherent when I write.**

 **Thank you Bluemoon and guest for your reviews. I meant to thank you in my last chapter, but it totally slipped my mind. So, thanks you!**

 **Also, just a heads up for everyone, the next chapter will include connotations of rape. I'm not sure how detailed it will be yet; I'm not super comfortable with writing stuff like that, so it won't be overly graphic. Normally, I wouldn't warn readers on stuff like this because you guys know what this story is by now, but with the way things are today, I'll just save my ass the displeasure of being bitched out by an unsuspecting reader. If you're asking yourself why I'm even bothering with writing it if I don't exactly feel comfortable with it, my answer is this: Rape is real. It happens. It's a brutal and unfortunate part of life, and my aim isn't to traumatize readers or get a reaction of you. It's to tell a story that involves real-world happenings. This story is based on the apocalypse where hardly anything is held sacred anymore. The rules of a composed society no longer exist; only chaos. Bad things happen to the innocent, but the people who do those bad things aren't immune to the world's evil either. The events that happen in the next chapter are for a purpose and not for fetishizing. But just like all the other violence that has happened in my story, and in TWD in general, it doesn't need a reason to exist because it just does.**

 **So with that, you get to choose what you read as a reader. I will post another warning at the beginning of the next chapter to remind you. It should be obvious as you read when it'll come up so you can skim it or skip ahead. It also won't be a long, drawn out thing either.**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys had a great weekend and are rested for the week ahead!**


	41. Chapter 41

**Warning: this chapter contains depictions of rape and attempted rape.**

* * *

 **Chapter 41**

Later that night, Daryl ventured back down to the hideaway. He'd taken the time between now and his visit with Sherry to rest as much as he could and gather his thoughts. He wanted the truth from Roxanne, and assuming he was going to get it from her, he needed to have a straight line of thought. Before he could propose Dwight's idea for escape to Everly, he needed to have her trust back. And whether or not Daryl had actually slept with Roxanne, he was going to be truthful with Everly. He just hoped that she'll forgive him and agree to leave by his side. That's all that mattered to him at this point.

When he stepped in, the hideaway was much more crowded than before, which he had counted on, because if people were present, then Roxanne was sure to be amongst them. He drifted in between tables and chairs, between raucous groups and drinking loners. Daryl might have taken up a chair to sit with one of the introverts if he was feeling sociable and not here for another purpose. In it way, it made him realize how different everyone here was. Not all of them were delinquents or dimwits with a knack for violence. Some were reserved and stuck to themselves, and that seemed to be for a reason.

 _Who'll be on our side?_ Daryl wondered, but he pushed the question aside and focused on what he came here to do.

He found her by a group of men, schmoozing and flirting as they laughed and drank. She was in her typical get-up, which wasn't much, and she flung her honey blonde hair over her shoulder as she sat on one of the men's lap. Daryl heard the tail-end of her comment to the guy as he came up behind they chair the sat on.

"-fifty points and I'll be all yours for the night. What do you say, baby?"

"I'll give you a hundred if you come with me now," Daryl spoke and Roxanne sprung up from the man's lap like she'd been bitten. She eyed Daryl nervously.

"The fuck, man?" The guy twisted around in his chair to give Daryl a nasty look. "Find your own lay somewhere else."

"A hundred," Daryl offered her again, not giving the man an ounce of his attention.

She seemed to think about it, sticking on hip out in a coquettish way as she considered his offer. She looked mildly doubtful of him, but she assumed to resign to his suggestion, giving him a small nod and a smile.

"Fucking bitch," the guy sneered. "I didn't want your used-up pussy anyway."

Roxanne face twitched slightly at the insult, but she took Daryl by the hand and held her head up high. She tugged on him to follow her and as he did, he knocked one of the back legs of the man's chair from under him and he tumbled to the ground with a curse.

"Quick," Daryl urged Roxanne with his shoulder against hers, and they wove through the room and to the door as the man and his gang began yelling at them.

They flew up the stairs to Daryl's room, Roxanne laughing breathlessly as she clung to his hand. Daryl wasn't feeling mischievous like she was, but he didn't let on to that. She was supposed to think he wanted her, and she had been wary of him at first, but he must have given her a shot of assurance when he dumped that asshole on the floor.

He opened the door to his room and pulled her inside. Roxanne glided in after him as he shut the door and she wrapped her arms around his neck hungrily, pulling his face towards hers. He strained against her wrangling hands and gripped her wrists to peel her off of him.

"Sit," he commanded and directed her to his bed with an index finger.

She issued him a look of hurt before a light shone behind her eyes. She gave him a lascivious smirk as she trailed slender fingers up her belly, exposing herself as she went.

"Yes, sir," she replied seductively.

"No," Daryl said and grabbed her hands. He shoved her gently, but insistently to the bed. "Just sit."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Okay."

Roxanne took a hesitant seat on the bed as Daryl shifted on his feet.

"Did we fuck?" He asked blatantly, not wanting to skirt around the issue.

"What?" She asked, almost offended. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, did me 'n you have sex?"

Roxanne scoffed and folded her arms and crossed her legs. She looked away from him, silently fuming.

"You woke up with me beside you naked, didn't you?" She cocked an eyebrow at him. "What does that tell you?"

Daryl huffed out a breath through his nose. He was getting just as riled up as she was because it was clear to him she was sitting on the truth like a mother hen.

"It tells me that I was either set up or we had sex. It can only be one of the two," Daryl said. "I don't remember jack shit; I was lit off my ass. The only thing I do remember was you crawlin' on top of me and tryin' to talk me into it. I nearly gave in, but…I don't think I did."

Roxanne was nervously ticking her foot, the motion causing the bed to hiccup out tiny squeaks with the rhythm. She was starting to look guilty, and Daryl thought he finally found his answer. He went to sit beside her and placed a hand on her knee, compelling her foot to stop jittering.

"It's alright if we didn't and you made it seem like we did. I understand why ya did it even if it makes me madder than hell," he told her gently, but the gruffness in his voice started to make an appearance as he finished speaking. He took his hand from her knee and put it in his lap. He didn't want to be near, let alone touch, her anymore.

"He made me," Roxanne whispered and lowered her head.

"Doesn't take a fuckin' genius to figure that one out," Daryl retorted.

"You don't have to be an asshole about it," she flared back.

"And how do ya expect me to react to it?" Daryl snapped at her and got up to walk to his door. He put the hand on the knob, ready to show her out. "I don't hate ya, Roxanne. I know ya had your reasons because I don't mean nothin' to you, but you fucked me over."

"Not in the literal sense, anyway," she replied sarcastically with a tilt of a thin eyebrow.

"Get out," Daryl told her, and opened the door.

Roxanne stood, her heels clattering ostentatiously on the concrete floor as she stomped up to him.

"I thought you were one of the good ones," she said, her voice breaking on the last word.

Daryl watched as tears flooded her eyes, and he was close to feeling guilty. He did pity Roxanne, and he told her as much the night that they had spent together. But it didn't give her the excuse to play around with his life whether or not she was acting on Negan's orders. She'd chosen the name she lived by here, and while Daryl realized it might've been a harder decision for her to make than he could fathom, he found himself sympathizing with it less now that he was a victim of her manipulation.

"There ain't any good ones left, Roxanne. You should know that by now."

She nodded her head, angry tears falling down her cheeks. She wiped them away with a quick swipe of her hand.

"We do what we can, right?" She shrugged a shoulder. "At least you didn't give in to the tricks. That _does_ make you a good one. I'm just sad that you're too good for me."

Her words were like acid, but she left then and Daryl hung onto the knob of the open door as he listened to her clattering footfalls fade away. He took a moment to feel sorry for her before pushing her into the abyss of his mind. She wasn't his concern anymore now that his conscious was clear. All he needed was to see Everly again, tell her the truth, and then get her and himself the fuck out of this industrial sized cage because it wasn't going to be their home any longer.

* * *

It was threatening to storm as we travelled back south. I watched as the sky began to purple and darken. A lightning strike arched through the sky as thunder rolled over our heads, booming its way into the privacy of my thoughts. I kept my hands in my lap and my knees pressed together as I rode between Simon and Negan. The bat wielding asshole had let me back into the truck with them although he hadn't seemed very happy with me since our spat earlier this morning. He had been curt as he advised me to collect my things, and he'd remained that way through the course of our afternoon drive. It was early evening now and we rolled to a stop at the mattress warehouse once more.

"Let's rest and fuel up," Negan informed his Saviors through the walkie. "Thirty minute break. Then we roll back out. I wanna beat this raging bitch of a storm that's about to come through."

The accompanying vehicles gave their correspondence and the line of them made their pit stop once more in the desolate parking lot of Mattress Ware.

As Negan and his men began to fold out from their transports, I found myself wanting to stay inside. We'd ridden for the better part of the day; Somerset and its counterpart being well over the West Virginia state line. My legs and back were still achy and cramped from sitting so long, but I didn't make a move to leave the truck. I wanted to be alone to brood.

I went unnoticed at first, Simon slamming the driver door and Negan leaving the passengers' wide open for me to follow through. The group driving the box truck that held most of our supplies began distributing portions of food and drinks while others stretched out and talked. It wasn't until another spear of lightning and a roar of thunder that cut through the air did my absence become notable.

Everyone started to huddle in front of the building doors, waiting for them to be unlocked and unchained. I leaned over and peered up through the windshield to observe the black and blue sky when Negan's deep voice startled me.

"You waitin' for a tornado to come by and sweep you away to Oz?"

"If that's what it takes to get away from you." I sat back but kept my eyes up to the sky.

"Well, I don't see the green tint of a frog's butt crack roiling around up there, so you might be sitting with your thumb up your ass for a while."

I cut a glance at him then, but it was short lived. I let out a sigh as I settled back into the seat and crossed my legs. I was tempted to say that I wasn't going to go anywhere, but then I would be a hypocrite after I reamed him about his lack of trust in me. I couldn't expect him to begin thinking of me as trustworthy if I lacked the ability to tolerate his presence. I had to work for it no matter how grueling it would be. He needed to know that I wasn't all talk; I had to show it to him, prove it, too. But if he was smart, he wouldn't trust me even then.

"Can I just have a minute by myself?" I asked politely. "Maybe take a walk?"

Silence emanated the space between us, but eventually, I heard Negan let out a slow breath. "I didn't expect you to say yes."

"Then why did you ask?" I countered.

"For shits and giggles, I guess," he answered, a smile hidden in his voice, but he sighed again. "It was worth a shot."

"You're a high shooter, then."

"I don't know what you fucking expect from me. You asked me to trust you and I gave you a good fucking opportunity. It was you who turned your pretty nose up at it," Negan said.

"Marrying you wasn't what I meant." I looked at him again. "My life is not a fucking bargaining chip!"

My shout was loud, and I hadn't expected it to be quite so, but Negan gazed at me resolutely.

"You want to take a walk? Alone?" His brows lowered as I nodded. He considered me for a moment. "Laura will go with you."

"Please, Negan," I begged.

"Laura will go with you," he repeated stoically but his tone held a slight edge. "We'll work on this whole building trust thing, but you've got a lot of work ahead of yourself to have any damn sort of independence. I'll make sure you have your space so that it feels like you're by fucking yourself."

I gazed down at my hands as they worried against each other and huffed in agreement.

"Alright," I said and looked back at him. "I can go anywhere?"

Negan dipped his head once and said, "So long as it's not too damn far from here."

"How far is too far?" I asked as he started to back away to the glass warehouse doors.

"I'll let you judge that for yourself. Our status quo with trust starts now. We'll see how far you can get," he replied before turning around and going inside.

"So much for having faith," I whispered to myself grumpily, but I couldn't blame him. I wouldn't trust me quite yet in his position either.

I slid to the edge of the bench seat and sat by the open door, letting my legs dangle over the side and into the open. The wind was starting to build up, and I could smell the ozone as the pregnant clouds pressed together. From my left, I heard the glass doors open and close along with the sound of rubber treading on asphalt approaching me.

"You're really keeping me busy this weekend, ginger," Laura called to me but I didn't look at her.

I hopped down from my perch and slammed the truck door.

"I'll keep it brief," I reassured her as I passed by and headed toward the back of the building.

If she had a remark, I didn't hear it, and I walked briskly to the tree line that sat at the end of the warehouse. Negan had told me there was a small river near here, and that sounded like a peaceful place to sit and watch the gathering storm, have a few minutes to myself, and possibly relax.

Trudging through the undergrowth, I was careful not to snag myself on any fallen debris. I heard Laura shifting through the thickets a few feet behind me, and I looked over my shoulder at her. She widened her eyes as she gave me a disgruntled shrug, but when I didn't relent, she waved a hand at me to go on and placed the other on her hip. I turned to continue walking, going slowly so as to hear her footsteps following mine, but I didn't and the tension gently eased from my stiff shoulders.

I moved my head back and forth, trying to stretch the muscles in my neck and collect myself. Other than my previous work out, I had slept on a very cramped loveseat. It hadn't exactly done wonders for my intensely used limbs, but this walk was helping to stretch them a bit. The only other thing that could give me relief was another salted bath to soak in, but that had been a fleeting indulgence. I was content with what I had received, yet that didn't stop me from yearning for more.

The feeling of need, of desire, had my attention switching to Daryl. I missed him immensely, and as time wore on, and new information took shape in front of me, I realized how petty our situation was. I had a valid reason to be upset with him, to not want to be close to him much anymore, but I felt that divide ripping me apart. I wanted to be near him, to feel his love for me, and to hear his deep, gravelly voice again. He was my best friend; the only person I could truly depend on. And we had bigger things to be concerned about than the skirmishes of our relationship, whatever it was.

When I got back to the Sanctuary, I was going to find him and tell him I was sorry. It didn't matter anymore what happened with Roxanne; it was all so trivial now. All Daryl and I needed to do was focus on the details of circumventing Negan. After that, and once Negan becomes a pest that's gone for good, we could work on each other. I only knew that I didn't want to give up on him. My entire spiel about trust to Negan related to more than just one person in my life. If I wanted it, I had to practice it, too.

I was starting to wonder if Negan had told me the truth about the river. It felt like I'd been walking for miles, which in reality had only been a few minutes, when finally I heard the rushing gurgle of water. A smile graced my lips, and I took a few more striding, yet careful, steps to see the crystalline waters sweeping over rocks and through a bend. It was as picturesque as I imagined it to be, and I slipped down to its edge to sit atop a misted boulder.

Once I was comfortable, I looked behind me to see if Laura had made an appearance yet. I didn't see her blonde head poking from the crest of the small hill I'd descended, so she must be a few feet back. Obviously, she wouldn't have let me out of her sight as per Negan's assumed orders. I didn't have to hear them to know that his reliance on me was limited, but at least he was providing me a looser leash – even if it wasn't ideal, it wasn't constricting anymore.

Ignoring Laura's eventual arrival, I took off my jacket and set it to the side, savoring the flow of the chilled, dampened air as it picked up again. I lied belly down on the boulder to scoop up the bubbling water and splashed it over my face. After working up a small sweat with my mini hike, it was just what I had needed. I rinsed my face with a few more handfuls, running wet fingers to smooth back my hair and sat up on my knees. I wished I had a band to tie my hair back, but for now I twisted it at the nape of my neck and let the unfastened bun slowly untwine down the middle of my back.

I thought about taking my boots and socks off to let my feet soak in the water. I envisioned spreading my toes out as the icy stream coursed over them and soothed my aches, but like any other possibility of reprieve in this world, my tiny break by the river was momentary. It was cut through by a distant shriek; one of desperate and primal fear. It perked me up in apprehension, and I slowly push myself to my feet as my eyes dashed around the darkening trees across the running stream.

Through the tittering of birds and the sloshing water below me, everything seemed still for a moment. There was no gunfire or pounding footsteps. No demanding voices or lament from the dead. I heard nothing else except the sounds that lived in the forest, but then the same scream came again, closer this time and more visceral.

I felt my heartbeat in my fingertips and the shout of Laura calling my name caused me to jump. I dug the heels of my boots into the rock as I swayed, nearly falling in the water, but I took a stumbling step back and scanned the sheltered trees in front of me again.

"What the fuck was that?" Laura asked, coming to a stop above me.

I shook my head. "I don't know."

The scream pierced the atmosphere again, an earth shattering cry.

"Let's go," Laura demanded. Her hand went to the gun at her hip.

"No," I said, almost instinctually, and I bounded from the rock on to another and then another until I had crossed the river.

"Everly," Laura warned in a strained voice.

"Someone needs help," I called back with a short glance at Laura. She was furious.

"And you'll need mine if you go any further, but guess what? No one can help the dead."

"Then you'd better stop me," I replied and turned my back on her.

I pushed through the brush, slipping past the maze of trees as I ventured farther into the expanding woods. A bark of thunder filled the space around my head, a distant rumble from my left. The storm was close but it hadn't reached here quite yet. I looked over my shoulder again to note Laura's absence. Surely she was rushing back to tell Negan what I had done, but I refused to let that bother me. It was Laura's choice to abandon me, not the other way around. She could have easily followed, but she ran away like a coward instead.

 _Fuck them. Fuck all of them,_ I lashed out silently. It may be a dog eat dog world, but that didn't mean the world lacked dignity. It was just hard to find, and I was determined to bring what was left of that gem to light.

 _What you're doing is dangerous,_ I argued with myself, and that was true. It was stupid to ignore that fact, but I couldn't hear a cry of distress and not do something about it. The trouble was that I didn't know what I could even do. I would have to play it by ear, figure out what was happening first, and hopefully come up with a way to save this person from whatever danger they were in if I wasn't too late.

The certainty of coming to the aide of strangers in need was questionable. It may be a redeeming, albeit reckless, quality of mine, but it was definitely on track to becoming my modus operandi. As much shame as I've felt in myself since Mason's death, aiding others wasn't going to be another reason. I would work on myself by abetting those who required it. It was what I did best.

As I jogged deeper into the forest, I heard strangled cries and the sound of men. I slowed down my pace and crouched low to stay unnoticed as a sense of unease was overcame me. I grasped at my neck to pull up my hood when I remembered I left my jacket by the river. I swore at myself and ducked even lower. I was like a flashing buoy in the middle of the ocean with my auburn hair. Whoever was up ahead would spot me in an instant, so I stayed blended with the bushes and trees as I edged closer to the sound of voices.

"Hold her hands down," a man said and I heard the ripping of cloth.

"No!" A girl's voice shouted and she let out another guttural wail.

"Shut the fuck up already!" Someone else yelled which was followed the by the sound of skin hitting skin.

I kept frozen against the trunk of the tree I hid behind, trying to decipher what was happening without looking. I didn't want to be too obvious, and a lack of any sort of weapon was hindering me. Not that it might do much good if there were a lot of people to fight off, but a gun or a knife in the midst of an attack was better than my bare hands.

"Keep your pretty head down, dear, and your fucking legs open. The more you fight back the more it'll hurt," the first man said and it was clear then what was going on.

"You keepin' an eye out for the carpers?" Another man asked.

"Yeah, I'm watching," a new voice replied. The snap of footsteps on fallen branches and dead leaves came closer to me as they began to circle the perimeter.

The girl's cries were muffled now and the sound of more clothing being ripped began a new conversation. I counted five voices, each from a different man. They were cruel, they were hungry, and I didn't know what to do to stop them.

I glanced back in the direction of the river, denying the instinct to run. If Laura had gone back to Negan to tell on me, she sure was taking her fucking time about it. The way I bet she was scrambling to cover her ass, she was going to paint the picture of _me_ cutting lose, and I supposed her cowardice could be to my advantage if it brought Negan here. But what was taking them so long?

I could go back. Maybe I would meet them halfway and tell them what I came upon. Negan might help, but then, he might not. What else could I do, though? I had no other option. I ran up here thinking I'd catch some lone survivor surrounded by walkers, not by a gang of sadistic rapists. That was an inclination that hadn't entered my mind and now I felt torn.

I took in a silent, deep breath and gingerly inched my head around the tree. When I spotted a man staring into the woods, I jerked back. He hadn't been looking at me, but he was close by. If I left now, he would see me and I wasn't confident that I could out run him. I juggled on what to do when his voice spooked me.

"Carper!"

Its tedious shambling was audible then and I looked to my right to see a walker heading straight in my direction. How it singled me out with what was going on behind me, I didn't know. The girl was crying, her pain evident in every whimper, and my stomach dropped to my knees at the jeering men. I closed my eyes, willing the walker to move away or become distracted somehow when the person on watch passed behind my tree and over to the walker.

He strode up to it, almost in a business-like way. He unsheathed a knife from his side and waited as the corpse deviated from its course and came for him. The man glanced briefly over his shoulder, his searching eyes not quite reaching where I huddled, before he faced the living dead again and impaled its head just as it reached for him. I saw that he was young, probably even my age, and he looked fast, strong.

"How is it, Ben?" A man asked.

"It's old. Not fresh enough," Ben said as he eyed the downed body and wiped his dirtied blade on it. "It was headed for something, though…"

His words fell flat as he turned around and spotted me.

My blood froze and my fingernails dug into the tree bark, the sap gluing me to it. We stared at each other, and I pleaded to him silently as he gazed at me in a surprised sort of way. When he lowered the knife and held it parallel to the inside of his tensed forearm, I bolted.

"Hey!" A shout echoed behind me, but I kept running as the next words yelled were, "Ben's got her."

And he did, because I had barely formed what to do in my head besides panic when his weight hit me.

We tumbled to the ground, sliding in the dirt as he gripped my shoulder and spun me to lie on my back. I struggled against him, letting out a raging scream as I scratched and hit him. He gained control of my wrists and pinned them down in the dirt as he peered down at me angrily. His lip was bloody, so I had gotten a good shot in at least.

"Let me go!" I yelled in his face.

He smiled at me, his teeth stained red from the blood on his lip.

"Now why would I go and do something as stupid as that?" He asked and yanked me up.

I fought as he took me from behind and held me to his chest, strapping my arms down with one of his and holding the tip of his knife to the underside of my jaw. He moved me forward, my feet clumsy against the push of his, and every time I stumbled, the lone tooth of his blade threatened to bite.

"Keep walking, bitch. I won't waste a life if I don't have to," he mumbled in my hair.

He directed me to the circle of men who were now watching us, their interest in what was happening before briefly interrupted. I closed my eyes as they fell on the sight of the girl half-naked and sprawled out sobbing in the middle of them. I fought the urge to cry; not wanting to damn myself to what I imagined was the inevitable situation here. Now that there were two of us, not as many of them had to watch anymore.

"Where the fuck did you come from?" A man asked, and I opened my eyes to see all of them observing me expectantly.

When I kept my mouth shut, a guy with tan skin, dark hair, and a long beard stepped forward. His black-brown eyes looked over me warily.

"You don't look like you've been living on the land all on your lonesome," he commented. "Who're you with? Are they nearby?"

I pressed my lips together. They weren't going to get anything out of me.

"He asked you a fucking question," Ben yelled in my ear, slamming an elbow in my side.

I hunched over in agony, my constricting throat seizing for air. I coughed and gasped, trying to slide out of Ben's hold, but he kept me upright with the point of his knife under my chin. The black-haired man stepped forward, a slight smile on his lips.

"You don't have to tell me anything right now, sugar. It's all pedantic," he crossed his arms and stroked his beard, running his tongue over his teeth. "We'll just move this party back to our camp, and when we're done buttering you up, maybe you'll be inclined to speak a little."

"No!" I gasped, my feet weakly pushing against the ground.

"Okay, it's all up to you," the guy raised his hands. "But we'll get what we want whether it's information out your mouth or...what you're packing under those clothes."

He gazed over me again, his eyes more direct and lingering this time. He closed the gap between us, setting himself closer to me as he smiled fleetingly at Ben. He leveled me with an unflinchingly stone-cold glare.

"And just between you and me, you can keep this silent, futile fight up. It doesn't bother me none. 'Cause truth be told," he peered deeply into my eyes, "I like a struggle."

I lashed out, catching the man in the shin with the toe of my boot. He grunted slightly in pain but covered it with a laugh as Ben roughly pulled me back.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked as I continued to squirm in his arms.

"Fuck, put her on the ground," the man said with an irritable smirk and rubbed his leg. "Tear of her clothes and gag her with the scraps. You can get started with this one while I finish with the other."

Ben lifted me up and dropped me on the ground forcefully. The air rushed out of me, my diaphragm spasming as I gripped the ground, fighting for air. His knee hit my back, sending me face first into the dirt as my throat finally opened up, allowing a short burst of air to be drawn in and cruelly pushed back out. It felt like I was drowning.

The acute edge of his knife was at the nape of my neck, shredding my shirt from neck to waist as he ripped through it. The air hit my damp skin, chilling me, and I shivered. I clawed at the dirt, desperate to get away, but he straddled my hips and kept his weight on me as his fingers scratched at the skin near my jeans.

Last night became vivid then; the adrenaline of seeing Negan brandishing his bowie knife and chasing me through the woods, how he caught me and pinned me down just like this. His idea had been one of a perverse joke, but this was real and savage, and yet again, I had no way to save myself. Like then, though, I wasn't going to give up. I would fight to the end, no matter how much damage they inflicted on me, I was going to try.

With a surge of anger, I reared back my elbow as hard as I could and connected with the side of Ben's face. He spewed out curses and flipped me onto my back. I hit him again - this time with my fist - the satisfying sound of my knuckles hitting his skin caused me to fight harder. When I went to swing once more, though, he caught my hand and twisted it to the side awkwardly. I yelped from the pain, and the back of his hand swiped across my face, sending me into a temporary darkness. When my vision was somewhat straight again, my hands were held in place above my head and my shirt in my mouth.

"I'm gonna make you fucking regret you ever wandered onto our property," Ben whispered menacingly in my ear, his knee opening the space between my legs as he ripped at my buckle. "This is what happens when you stick your fucking nose where it doesn't belong."

He raised a large fist in the air, and I closed my eyes in preparation for him to pummel me, but a sinisterly familiar whistle pierced the air, and my eyes sprang open again.

"What in the hell?" A man exclaimed as a series of imitating whistles ensued the first.

"Who's there?" Another one yelled.

I worked my shirt out of my mouth, spitting to get it out. I lifted my head, a demented grin splitting my sore cheeks and spoke.

"Negan."

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Ooookaaaaaay. Was this chapter too much or was it okay?**

 **I'm just going to go ahead and say that I'm excited for the next chapter. Negan's depraved, sadistic side is going to come out and I hope I write his actions well enough. Here's me corssing my fingers that his justice will satisfy you all next week!**

 **Thanks to my reviewers who I can't respond to, and thank you to all my readers!**


	42. Chapter 42

**I'm just going to go ahead and add another warning for rape. Nothing too graphic happens, but Everly and the girl are still being attacked when Negan makes his grand entrance.**

* * *

 **Chapter 42**

"Negan?" A large, balding guy asked, giving me a skewed look.

The whistling of the man in question struck the air again, circling around the small area. The five men took a moment to assess the situation, their wary eyes wandering through the foliage, but the hum of the forest was the only sound as the air settled again.

"I ain't seein' nothin', Leigh," an older man said as he peered past the edge of the trees encompassing us.

"Then look more closely," Ben replied for him.

He hadn't lifted his weight from me, keeping my hands and body held to the ground, but his attention was faltering. He looked to the source of the singsong noise and then over to the black-haired man who had taunted me earlier. He was determinedly preoccupied with the crying girl.

"Leigh," Ben called to him, an edge to his voice.

"Shit," Leigh cursed, his dark hair falling into his irritated face as he glared at me. He pushed off the young girl and adjusted himself.

I quickly looked back to the large balding man and his older counterpart as they shuffled closer to where I was discovered, swallowing repeatedly as I fought the urge to vomit. The fifth man hung back; it was clear he was a bit more anxious than the others, and it looked like he was ready to run at a moment's breath.

"We should take the women and go back right now," Ben said as he sat up on my stomach, my arms still prisoner in his crushing grip.

"If we lead outsiders to our camp, Alpha will be furious. We take care of this here and now," Leigh replied, withdrawing a revolver from his back. He squatted down beside us. "Pull out your knife and hold it to her forehead."

Ben did as he was told, pressing the sharpened metal to my skin where it met my hairline.

"If you don't tell us who's out there and what they've got," Leigh threatened, his eyes depthless, black pools, "Ben will flay you from your head to your toes and he'll make sure you feel it all."

"You won't get the chance," I spat at him and matched Ben with the same eat-shit-and-die glare.

Leigh let out an angry scoff and gave Ben a single nod. I looked away then and took in a deep breath, holding it as I braced for impending pain. I centered my attention intently on the two ferreting men as they ventured farther away from us, searching for a hint of the whistling intruders. I felt the blazing sting of Ben's knife digging into my skin, and I screamed from the sheer agony when twin gunshots mingled with my voice, interrupting the fray.

Caught off guard, my eyes widened as the head of the large, balding man exploded and ripped in half. He fell to the forest floor with a loud thump, and I saw the second man fall back as well from the corner of my eye, the back of his head bursting open like an overripe watermelon.

"Oh, fuck this!" The fifth man yelled, and he took off in the woods in the opposite direction.

With Ben lost in panic, I took this as a chance to fight once more and kneed him in the back as hard as I could. He jolted forward, the knife he held to my forehead cutting me deeper, and I cried out again from the shocking pain it leeched out of me.

"Fucking whore," Ben seethed, suspending the knife over my head.

Another shot tore through the wind, and it was Ben's turn to scream in misery as blood covered the front of his shirt. He dropped the knife, the blade catching my cheek and slicing it as I vainly jerked my head away. Blood covered my face from both wounds, seeping across my cheek and forehead and into my hair.

Ben clutched the shoulder of the arm that had held the knife, and he doubled over as he rolled off of me, moaning in pain. I gasped from the released pressure and took in giant gulps of air, pushing myself back to get as far away from him and Leigh as possible. They were both seething, and Leigh's wild eyes were scanning the forest at a rapid rate as his gun followed their movements.

I spotted the girl crying, shivering, and curled up in a ball, her eyes squeezed tight in terror. I started to crawl over to her, blood beginning to blind me as it ran into my left eye, when I was grabbed again and pulled forcefully to my feet.

I was held against a chest again, a barrel of a gun nuzzling my opened cheek. I squinted at the affliction and took in another ragged breath, willing myself to stay focused as a series of the same chanting trill sounded again at every angle. I sighed in relief, relaxing slightly into Leigh's chest, as Laura, Simon, and the rest of Negan's men stepped into view, surrounding us and aiming their guns.

Leigh was openly apprehensive now. He turned in a circle, dragging me with him, as he pointed his gun at each new body. He stopped short when the man who ran was shoved to the ground face first. The Savior who had caught the fleeing man gave Leigh a smug look and lined him up with the sight on his gun.

A lone, windy whistle, a warning melody of who and what was to come, reverberated between the trees and through their limbs, whisking past swaying leaves. It hit me at my core, sending those razor-winged butterflies cleaving through my gut despite knowing the forewarning wasn't for me. My reaction was compulsive, ingrained, and somehow I felt more scared now than I did two minutes ago.

Negan kept whistling as he strolled from the trees. He walked behind Laura, then Simon, then Lydia, not once looking up to acknowledge anyone as he circled the backs of his Saviors. He sauntered around, Lucille sitting pretty on his right shoulder as he did, but she must've been growing restless because he took her in his hands and swung her through the air. She made the air sing as the wind glided through her barbed tresses, and with each note of her song, Leigh's grip on me tightened.

He watched Negan as he circumnavigated the tiny glade, the gun in his hand beginning to shake. Ben whined on the ground as he shifted uncomfortably, holding a white hand to his gouged shoulder. The last one whose name I never learned stayed on his stomach as his hands lifted above his head in surrender. He peered left and right, following the bat waving stranger as he passed.

"You must be Negan," Leigh spoke, his words stronger than his trembling hand.

His words caused Negan to pause, and a smirk grew on his face as he gave Leigh and me a sideways look. He started walking again, keeping his torching stare on us as he completed his loop. He walked behind a cheerful Simon once more and entered the clearing. He took a few steps in and stopped, guiding Lucille one last time through the air before landing her perfectly atop his right shoulder. He gave me an amused yet dangerous glance.

"That's who I must be," he smiled but it quickly vanished.

"Well, _Negan_ , whatever the fuck kind of name that is," I could hear the disgust in Leigh's voice, "you and yours have trespassed onto our property. Usually we don't take too kindly to strangers, but I think we'd be willing to make an exception this one time if you tuck tail and go on home. You can have this one back," he gave a fast, constricting squeezing of the arm securing me, "and we'll be on our way, too. There's no need for any more violence. What do you say?"

Negan regarded Leigh and the two men who sat on the ground, one wounded and the other huddled anxiously. He examined the girl as she trembled amongst the dead leaves, terrified, naked, and confused. Then he gazed at me, running his eyes from my head to my toes. Behind the cool, stoic mask he wore, he was furious; I'd gotten to know that look to tell as much. The leather clad madman gave Leigh an indulgent smile and ran his tongue across his teeth as he unsuccessfully held back a snicker.

"I'm sorry," Negan began, furrowing his brows and held a hand to his chest, "you'll have to forgive me. I've forgotten my manners. You already know my name, but… Damn it if I didn't ask you yours. My momma taught me better than that, so I hope you'll accept my apology."

"Listen, asshole, I don't have time fo-"

Negan's piercing whistle interrupted Leigh, the anger he had been hiding so confidently finally showed its ugly face.

"There's no need for name-calling, now," Negan admonished. "I was just offering my simple amends to vindicate this shithole of a situation. You see, I take you as the leader here, am I correct…?"

Negan raised his brows and rolled his left hand. Leigh sighed in frustration, his breath fluttering my hair.

"It's Leigh," he finally revealed. "And yes, I tell what's left of my men what to do."

"Right," Negan nodded, smiling again. "Well, Leigh, I'm a leader, too. And as a leader, I know that it's important to set an example for the people who follow me. Now, I'm not one to judge 'cause I've done my fair share of fucked-up bullshit in my days, but I'd never be so base to do whatever it is I'm witnessing here and then follow it up by asking for no more violence. It just seems like a good way to pussy out after getting caught red-fucking-handed with your dick in the cookie jar."

The sound of Leigh swallowing stuck in my ears and I knew exactly what he was feeling in that moment. It _almost_ made me feel sorry for him, but I was mostly feeling smug satisfaction.

"You can see it however you want," Leigh said, "but you've already killed two of my men and wounded another. You got all of yours, so I wouldn't exactly call it a fair fight if you want to bring it down to shots and swings. Unless you just prefer being the bully which in that case makes you the pussy bitch. Not me."

Over Negan's shoulder, Simon snorted and covered his mouth as he fought the laughter that was bubbling up in his chest. Negan calmly smiled as his best friend and right-hand man continued to lose it and a few other Saviors got caught in the riptide, snorting and laughing, too.

"What's so fucking funny!" Leigh yelled, and a high-pitched ringing swallowed the hearing in my right eardrum. He held the gun out, pointing it in multiple directions before shoving it under my chin again, pushing my head back so that I could only look up at the treetops.

"Alright, take it easy, Leigh," Negan responded. Leigh took a step back, and the gun dug sharply in the base of my chin as I stumbled after him. It made it difficult to breathe. "We don't mean to laugh at you, but come on, man. Really? Do I honestly need to spell out every damn dirty detail about what the fuck was happening here before we showed up? You wanna talk about fair goddamn fights? What about the two fucking women _you and yours_ beat to hell and raped?" The outrage flooded his voice now, getting louder with each word. "And one of those women happens to be _mine_. No, I think you've got me all wrong, Leigh. I don't want my men to fucking gang up on your punk ass. I'll make this as fair and goddamn square as it can be, and whoever wins, wins. All I want is the chance to bash your head the fuck in until I'm covered in your fucking blood, but I can't do that when you're holding my girl at gunpoint."

Leigh inhaled sharply, pulling me once more as he walked backwards. I was gripping his arms, clawing my fingernails deeply into his skin, but it didn't seem to affect him at all. I gasped, trying to take in slow, steady breaths; to not panic. It didn't seem like he would let me go, and what if he pulled the trigger? I'd be dead and it wouldn't matter what happened after that; whether Negan killed Leigh or not. I'd be gone, and I didn't want to be.

"Listen, we'll make a deal," Negan compromised, his voice closer. He must have advanced on us, giving reason to why Leigh had moved back. "You let her go, and I'll let you have the first swing. And if you don't want to do that, then I'll be generous enough to give you cowardly sacks of shit a head start."

"No," Leigh shook his head. "I want you and every single one of your people to turn around and go back the way you came. When I can't see you anymore, then I'll let the girl go, and she can run after you if she's fast enough. None of you will wait for or follow us. If I see anyone else hanging around these woods after you leave, I'll shoot your girl and then I'll do the other one. That's the deal."

"Leigh," Negan sighed in annoyance, "I know it's in your nature to call the shots, and you probably think most of them are pretty good seeing as the word 'no' has very little meaning to you unless you're the one speaking it, but I'm gonna have to disappoint you. That is the shittiest fucking deal I've ever heard in my life. I outnumber you three to one, and sure, you've got a loaded gun cocked and ready to blow aimed at a head I care about, but what're you going to do after you pull that trigger? I'm giving you the fucking chance to get away. Don't let your pride make you any stupider than you already are, Leigh. Do you want to lead what's left of your group to their fucking graves?"

"Fine!" Leigh barked. He shoved me roughly to the ground and I fell flat on my stomach at Negan's boots.

I breathed in deeply, looking up at the man who had for so long been my tormentor but had now transformed into my savior. I felt tears sting my eyes as I crawled out of his way and blindly searched for my ripped shirt, pressing it to my bleeding forehead once I found it. I had felt idiotic before when Ben first spotted and captured me, but Negan's downcast eyes were so full of resentment that it filled me with more shame than when my clothes had been torn off. All of this was my fault, and I hadn't been able to help anybody; specifically not myself. I'd made more of a mess of things than anything else.

"You've got your girl. We'll take ours and go," Leigh spat. "Ben, Hank. Get the girl."

Ben and the man I now knew to be Hank, rose to their knees and stood up.

"No," the young girl cried, struggling away from Hank as he approached her.

"Ah-ah," Negan wagged a finger at the man and he stopped mid-step. Negan turned his attention back to Leigh. "She doesn't seem willing to go."

"I could give a fuck what she's willing to do. She's part of our group, she comes with us."

"Clearly," Negan replied sarcastically and strode towards Leigh, unleashing Lucille from his shoulder, a silent stalker.

"Stay the fuck back," Leigh warned, thrusting the gun at Negan.

"If you're gonna shoot me, shoot," he smiled and twirled Lucille at his side. "Just make sure you know who the actual pussy bitch is in this instance so you don't get muddled on the facts when you take your last, fighting breath."

"Go fuck yourself."

A gunshot rang out. It was a quick shot that was sent to the airy depths of the sky by a Savior. The young girl screamed as I fell back on my ass, my heart thumping laboriously in my chest. Leigh and his guys whipped their heads in the direction of the shot, and while they were distracted, Negan took his chance to curve Lucille down on Leigh's gun-brandishing hand.

"Fuck!" Leigh yelped, dropping the gun and clutching his torn and reddening fist.

"Don't fucking move," Lydia advised as Ben made a dodging move to grab the discarded revolver. She trained on him with her pistol.

"We had a fucking deal!" Leigh screamed at Negan, his features distorted with loathing.

Negan shrugged nonchalantly. "I told you to take the fucking shot."

He wound up Lucille for a second time and rounded her from behind his shoulder, leading her into the side of Leigh's head. He fell like a ton of bricks, his left cheek slightly concave and gaping. Negan let out long whistle and laughed as Hank's knees buckled from under him while Ben stood rigid and ghost white. Leigh hadn't lost consciousness from the hit, and he moaned and squirmed in the dirt, his features slack as he tried to get back up.

"You Hank or Ben?" Negan asked, pointing at Ben.

"Ben," he answered weakly as he hunched over. He still held his injured shoulder.

"Ben, are you familiar with Viking customs on torture? Specifically one called the Blood Eagle?"

"No," Ben shook his head sluggishly.

Negan pointed at Hank questioningly.

"No," Hank replied, his mannerism skittish.

"I'd ask Mr. Leigh down here, but it looks as though he's lost a bit of his wits, don't it?" Negan commented as he bent over to study the groaning man. "I'll give you boys a lesson in Nordic history. Or rather, Norse poetry, but I like to think this shit actually happened, so bar the semantics. The Blood Eagle was a form of execution. It involved making a sacrifice to the Norse god, Odin, by cutting open the back of the victim, separating the ribs from the spine, and ripping out the lungs to rest on the shoulders of the afflicted thus creating a pair of bloody, breathing wings. I don't know about y'all, but that shit sounds fucking badass as hell, and frankly, I've wanted to try it on someone for a long time."

"Oh god," Hank whimpered, his hands limp in his lap.

"Simmer down, Hank. You won't be my guinea pig today," Negan said as he caressed his chin. He smirked down at Leigh then his rose mischievous eyes to Ben. "I've got someone special lined up for this."

Ben's eyes widened once he realized he was the target. He stumbled back, holding pleading hands up at Negan.

"Please," he begged, "I didn't do anything. I was just doing as I was told. Like how your men follow you, I did the same."

"Goddamn, my mouth is starting to turn sour with all the bullshit you and Leigh have been trying to force feed me. I'm starting to feel a bit fucking sick to my stomach," Negan took a vicious swipe at Ben with Lucille, teasing him perilously as the studded bat barely missed him. "No man or woman is only following orders when their victim looks like that."

He pointed Lucille at me and Ben gazed after her. His throat bobbed with a gulp.

"You had a mind of your own when you ripped off her clothes and pawed at her with your filthy fucking hands. Then, when that wasn't enough, you _dug_ your fucking _knife_ into her!"

"I'm sorry, man. I was just doing…" Ben whimpered and closed his eyes. "Fuck."

"Hand it to me," Negan held out his hand.

Ben looked up at him with fearful eyes, his hand travelling to the hunting knife at his hip. He shook his head, his face wet and trembling. Negan wiggled his fingers and patiently repeated himself in a deep, brooking baritone.

My would-be rapist unsheathed the knife from his side with sticky, shaking fingers and offered it to Negan who took it from him gently.

"That's it. No need to be afraid," Negan soothed. Holding the hilt steadily in his hand, he gestured at Ben as he ordered two Saviors to grab him. "Pin him down on his stomach, arms out wide."

"No, please! I'll do anything!" Ben screamed as he was forced to the ground in front of me, his arms flung out and secured on each side.

Negan looked at me, his eyes oddly blank. "Is this how he did it?"

The words stung, causing a ripple of disgrace to heave over me like a black wave. I pressed my shirt into the gash on my forehead, letting the physical pain absorb me instead, and nodded.

"I'm assuming you used this knife to tear off her clothes, too. Am I right?" Negan asked the heaving man.

One of the restraining Saviors smacked him upside the head when he didn't answer.

"Y-yes," Ben let out, but he gained a sudden mass of bravado and cut his eyes at Negan over his shoulder. "I used it to cut her fucking shirt off like it was nothing. Then I shoved it in her mouth so she could choke on it while I fucked her."

Negan nodded. His upper lip twitched in disgust as he gazed down at the knife in his hand. He flipped it once, catching it by the hilt, and he held out Lucille. Simon stepped forward to take her.

Once his cherished bat was in safe hands, Negan rotated the blade so that it pointed to the ground. He dropped down on one knee, straddling Ben's back, and tore through the thin fabric of his shirt, exposing him. The cloth was hacked from his torso, and Negan forced the strips deep into Ben's mouth, causing him to gag.

"Take a deep breath," Negan mocked, knowing he couldn't. "I don't want you passing out to soon."

Without a second's hesitation, he pushed the knife into the base of Ben's neck and dragged it down his spine, leaving a slender, red trail which burst and flooded his light skin with crimson rivers. Ben screamed from under his makeshift gag, floundering violently to get away as Negan worked on him, but he was held firmly in place; his impulsive movements only causing further damage to himself.

I heard crying begin from over my left shoulder, and I looked back briefly to see the young girl holding her mouth, tears spilling down her pink cheeks as she watched the spectacle in front of her.

The sloughing noise of skin being removed made my stomach turn, and I held back a gag, trying not to picture the sight in my mind as I moved on my hands and knees to the girl. She looked at me sparingly, unable to tear her gray eyes away from the horror at my back. I saw a splatter of blood reflected in her eyes, and I grabbed her, pulling her to me.

"Don't look," I whispered to her, but she turned her head from me and continued to watch.

A hollowing crunch of bones was next; one excruciating snap after the other. Ben was actively howling, but they were growing fainter as Negan went on. When Ben became quiet, so did Negan and he waited until his victim woke up to resume.

"We're almost finished, Benny boy," Negan chimed, and flung his carving tool to the ground. It stuck blade-first in the dirt a few feet away, showing off a jiggling, bloody dance. "Here comes the best part. Stay awake for this."

The maniac stuck his hands in Ben's open back, grabbing one lung at a time through his hewn ribcage. The flayed man flung his head back, his throat spasming with the pure torture. One lung was placed gingerly on his shoulder, and Negan reached in his one last time to retrieve the other. When both organs were in place, the Saviors let him go, and Negan stood up and moved back to admire his work.

"Would you look at that," he breathed in awe, glancing at Hank and Leigh.

Leigh lay still on the ground, one eye swollen shut and the other open and taking in everything. Hank, on the other hand, was in the middle of vomiting.

"I've gotta say, I'm fucking beside myself," Negan laughed. "I just made an assumed fucking Viking myth real! And it's fucking invigorating! _Ho-lee_ shit!"

"You can even see him breathing," Laura said, her face screwed up in disgust.

"Simon," Negan beckoned. "Please tell me you've got the camera."

"I've got it, sir," Theodore said, stepping out of the circle. He bent over Ben and snapped a shot, just as his lungs emptied and refused to inflate again.

"Shit," Negan sighed disappointedly. "I was hoping he'd last longer."

His hands and leather sleeves were coated in red, and as he turned to face the two leftovers, there was a wild, disconnected gleam in his eyes.

"Put these two on their knees."

The Saviors who had held Ben down went to comply with their leader's orders. Leigh groaned despairingly as he was sat up on his knees, swaying forward to which he had to be yanked upright. Hank was handled roughly, kicked and yelled at as he scrambled to kneel by his leader's side.

"This last act of mine will sum all this shit up," Negan started to monologue as he walked back and forth in front of the two. "You don't fuck with what's mine and not expect any retaliation! And I get it. We came onto your land and interrupted your special time for disparaging acts. Sad truth for you, _I've_ got whole fucking bucket list of disparaging acts up my bloodied as hell sleeve, and I can be _quite_ the territorial peacock as well. We just happened to meet at the wrong place and at the worst fucking time."

Negan laughed as he said the last part, holding his hands out in a friendly gesture. He pointed to the Leigh's revolver on the ground, and Theodore picked it up, giving it to him.

"I'll give you boys one last chance. One shot to make yourselves right." He opened the six cylinder chamber, and took out four random bullets, pocketing them. He snapped cylinder shut and spun it once, a sly smile on his face. "Fate has a sneaky way of putting us on her shit list. Ben knows firsthand," he chuckled and pointed a thumb at his sliced and ravaged corpse, "but I'll be generous and let you try your chance on calling for her good fortune."

He held the revolver out to Leigh. The now slack jawed man regarded him distrustfully, but Negan shook the gun at him, willing him to take it. Hesitantly, Leigh did.

"Put the gun in your mouth," he directed, and then added, "if you can."

With a glare, Leigh slid the barrel of his gun into his mouth.

"All the way back," Negan coaxed, nodding his head as Leigh followed his instructions. "Good. Now, when you're good and ready, pull the trigger. If you don't in, let's say, sixty seconds, I'll give you the same fate as your late friend, Ben."

Hank shook as he watched Leigh, and the dimples in Negan's cheeks deepened as he regarded him as well. Leigh took in several long gulps of air and squeezed his good eye shut. He pulled the trigger, but all that came was the click of the hammer and a single rotation of the cylinder.

"Fuck a duck! You're one lucky fucking bastard!" Negan exclaimed. He inclined his chin at Hank. "Pass him the gun. Let's see how this greasy fuck fares."

Leigh let the gun slip from his hand to the ground. Hank reluctantly reached for it as he began to snivel. He put it in his mouth, his motions tedious and tremoring, and Negan egged him on with half-assed encouragements.

"Get on with it, brother. You might be as fortunate as your half brain-dead leader next to you. Just one pull of the trigger. That's all it takes."

Hank rocked back and forth, his eyes closed as he hummed out his grief. Before he could squeeze his finger, Negan halted him, coming up to squat in front of him.

"You're holding it all wrong," Negan chastised. He placed a sanguine hand on Hank's, guiding the barrel deeper into his mouth until he gagged. "There. That's a guaranteed shot should fate decide to skull fuck you instead of lending a forgiving hand."

Hank sobbed at Negan words which caused him to beam. He stood back up, moving back to give Hank room. After a while, when all Hank did was sob uncontrollably into the void of the gun, Negan gave a small sigh and began to count down from thirty. Hank cried harder, spit dribbling out of the corners of his mouth and onto his chin. His saliva dripped down in stringy ropes as he spit and sputtered with each breath.

"I'm gettin' close to one, Hank," Negan warned as he reached ten.

Hank took in three desperate breaths.

"Five, four."

Hank let out a wail.

"Three, two."

 _BOOM!_

The back of Hank's head ruptured with the force of the bullet; blood, bone, and brain matter splattering the earth behind him. His face relaxed as he slumped forward, and no one said anything for a moment as they watched his body fall and adjust to the hand fate dealt him.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Negan remarked.

"Can I go now?" Leigh slurred apathetically, his eyes boring into the ground in front of him.

Negan let out a soft chuckle. "Be my guest."

Leigh staggered to his feet in a daze. The left side of his face was coated in blood, probably much like mine, and he relinquished one final icy glare at me as he turned away.

"Leigh, one last thing," Negan called after his limping form. Leigh looked back apprehensively.

Negan nodded at an armed Savior to the left of him, and they let loose a small string of rounds, hitting Leigh in the groin and stomach. He fell in a heap to the ground, and Negan took his barbed bat from Simon, positioning himself over Leigh's head.

"You briefly met my dirty girl, Lucille," he said, holding her in front of Leigh's face. "But spank my ass, I never properly introduced you two. There I go again with bad manners. My momma would be so embarrassed of me. Leigh, this is Lucille. Lucille, meet Leigh."

And Lucille did meet Leigh. She met him over and over until there wasn't anything left of him but scattered meat and bone. The girl in my arms watched every detail in wonder while I turned away when it all became too much for me. I started to shake, recalling Abraham's and Glenn's faces; how _they_ had crumbled under Lucille's introductory swings. The girl's arms tightened around me, and I realized she held me now as she stroked my hair.

"Don't be afraid," she whispered against my uncut cheek. "We're safe."

And in her eyes, we were. She was grateful to Negan for that. He'd rescued us and brought an end to our suffering. Our rapists were dead because of him. She was eternally free from their clutches, however long she'd been prisoner by them before. But she had no clue exactly whose hands she'd fallen into now.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Hopefully that was the justice you all were looking for. Negan's psycho side has come back out which has dredged up some unpleasant memories for E. The new girl seems pretty into it, though. *shrugs***

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Eyes are on me, and I feel stiff, strange; like I'm not really in my body. I see my hands and arms moving, dipping into the streaming water and turning it transiently to wine, but I have no awareness of willing them to do so. They're automatic, my motions robotic, and I'm shaking. I can't stop shaking.

I wince and brace myself against a wet rock as a creeping sensation of faintness comes upon me. It takes a few minutes, but I regain my senses and continue washing blood from my limbs. My blood, Ben's blood; maybe a bit of Leigh's blood, too. It's all the same color, so it has no meaning to me anymore. I just want it off of me. I want to be clean, and no matter how many times my hands thrust down into the water and slip over me, I keep seeing red.

Their voices, they murmur and canter not too far from me. The Saviors are assessing the new girl, assisting to her needs, getting to know where she came from and who she is. She doesn't provide many details, speaking briefly on how she came to be in these woods and not mentioning much on who Leigh and his men were. She informs them that her name is Rachel, and she's only seventeen years old. This revelation makes me feel worse, and I become more disconnected as I stare into the hypnotizing current, splashing in it again and again until I'm soaked from head to waist.

A chastising hand grips my bicep, pulling me firmly from the water. I sit back on my heels, my gaze boring into the lapping river, and I stay stoic. I'm afraid to move, afraid to look anywhere else, because then all of this might actually be real. Everything that happened and what I saw, I'll have to remember it for the rest of my life. Nothing can wipe those memories away, and they'll stain me like the cuts that will surely scar my skin. They're a part of me now, permanently, and I didn't know what to do with them.

Soft material covers my face, dabbing at the wetness and avoiding the tender spots that still bleed. Something is draped over my naked shoulders and I realize it's my jacket I left by the edge of this river not a half hour ago. Not even thirty minutes. I wondered how things could change so drastically in such a short amount of time, but I shake my head. That isn't something to linger on. I'd been wondering that my entire life and the pursuit of an answer was always futile.

"Everly," Negan's voice spoke from beside me, and it brought me out of the oblivion, a rushing alertness alighting me.

Like a puppet, I turn my head and look at him. He's disappointed and angry; I can tell. But there seems to be something else, something hidden around the edges of his hostility. I can't accurately place it but I think it might be pity.

"What in the holy fuck were you thinking?"

He asks it such a way that it comes off as a genuine question. Not intimidating or rhetorical but sincere. His eyes are searching mine, trying hard to find an answer, but I can't open my mouth to speak. I turn back to the water instead and stare again because the answer he wants is obvious. I hadn't been thinking at all.

I hear him sigh before he speaks again.

"You have a lot of balls to berate me on trust. To make me feel like the unreasonable one when I have damn good reasons for the decisions I make. Do you want to know why I kept such a tight fucking leash on you?"

His face is closer to mine now. His breath is warm where it hits my cheek, but the moisture on my skin turns it cool instantly when he stops speaking.

"You have almost zero self-awareness. It's fucking unbelievable how you managed to make it this far, and I'm starting to suspect that you might be a bit of a goddamn liar. You claim that you can take care of yourself and you survived _on your own_ for months…and I fucking _bought it_. I let you go off for barely ten motherfucking minutes when the _one_ person who was supposed to look after you comes barreling up to me saying you ran away. How the fuck do you think that makes me look?"

He's worried about his image. How his people might view him now since he keeps giving me chance after chance with no payoff. They're probably wondering, "Why bother? What can she give you that no one else can? What makes her so special?" And the short answer is that nothing is. There isn't anything particularly special about me. Negan just doesn't like losing, and he doesn't want to be a quitter. He presses closer to me in response to my silence.

"It makes me look like a goddamn fucking asshole," he mutters, his voice deep and begrudging in my ear. "I didn't choose to bring you out here to make a fool out of me. I was giving you an opportunity to show what you're worth, and you fucking blew it."

He let his words sink in, and I wondered what the consequences would be. What would come next? I assumed the stiff, old cot and my first job as Sanctuary housekeeper, or perhaps the cell.

"I should have known." His breath is an angry plume on my neck. "I wanted you to do well, but I'll rightfully blame myself for thinking you had the capacity for more than organizing shit in a box and mixing soap with water."

"Got the kit," Lydia's voice interrupted.

She hopped on the rocks, crossing the river to us and coming to a stop by my knees. Negan motioned for her to get on with it, and she squatted down, throwing down a clean shirt and opening the first aid kit to take out the items she would need. She cleaned up my wounds a bit with a stinging mist and ignored my wincing as she waited for the medicine to dry. Lastly, she applied multiple butterfly bandages to my cuts, squeezing the wounds together in a not so gentle way which left me lightheaded once more.

"She's definitely going to need sutures," she spoke to Negan. "These will hold up for a while, but the cuts won't heal properly until they're sewed up."

Negan nodded to her in thanks. "All of you head back, and check the girl again. Get her some food."

Lydia nodded back and chucked the clean shirt into my lap. I squeezed the cotton material in my hands, wringing and stretching it in my misery as she bounded away and everyone started through the woods. I sat in a trance with Negan beside me, waiting, but I didn't want to move to put on the shirt. I wanted to stay here, on this rock wet and cold, forever.

Negan ripped the shirt from my worrying fingers and grabbed the jacket off of my shoulders, leaving me bare again. Impatiently, he shoved the t-shirt over my head while being considerate of my injuries, making sure he was clear of them before handling me roughly once more.

"I'm not weak," he whispered after I was dressed, a hint of desperation laced in his tone as his fingers crushed my arms.

He shook me once; his eyes dancing embers as a flash of lightning lit the sky. When the thunder rolled, he moved, pulling me against his chest in a compressing hug. A gasp escaped me from the pain and the pressure, but he didn't relent. He needed me to feel what they had done because he couldn't add more to it. And instead of pulling away or fighting against him, I fell into his embrace and let the pain happen. I needed it just as much as he did, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, this was more than an improvised way of payback. Negan may not be a feeble man, but there were times when he needed comfort, too.

My arms rose up over his back, and I gripped his shoulders, holding him close to me. I wanted to thank him for coming after me, for saving me, but I felt it would be an insult to him if I did. He had come for me because he thought I had run, not because I was in need of rescue. That just happened to be the scene when he showed up; an unfortunate turn of events for me. And if anything, it proved to him how powerful he was. How much I, or anyone else, needed him.

"If you ever run from me again," his voice was gravelly and his fingers dug in my hair, "I'll kill you."

Negan pulled away from me, his hands encased around my shoulders. His eyes bored into mine, their gaze beseeching me for a response or any form of acknowledgement. I remained a blank slate, staring and quiet.

"Fucking say something, goddammit!" He roared at me, and I bit my quivering lip, determined not to speak a single word. Not until I could.

I sobbed instead and grabbed at his collar, dragging myself into him again. I was scared. Scared of him and everything else, but he was the only person at the moment I felt safe around. He was a living, breathing paradox, and as he let me fold myself into his lap, I found the concept of who and what he was too complicated to ponder. I only took what he offered me, and for the moment, he lent me his arms and shoulder to cry on.

* * *

"I'm not so sure about this, Maggie. You're going to lead this whole group into a world of hurt and they're too stupid to realize it!" Gregory slammed a hand down on his desk.

Maggie put a hand on her hip, shifting on her swollen feet, and raised a brow. She wasn't fazed by the tantrum he was throwing.

"Don't you see what you're inevitably doing?" He implored. "You're going to take away fathers, mothers, husbands and wives! You're sending out brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins…to die! All in the name of what?"

"Freedom," Maggie replied coolly. "Desperation. Vengeance. Life. We're givin' those who've been stuck on their knees in the mud, shiverin' cold, a leg to stand up on. I'm giving them that. They want to fight, and no one is makin' them. They voted for it. This is their decision."

"Oh, there you go with your pretty words again," Gregory laughed and wagged a finger at her. "A real verbal architect. Did you learn that from Rick? You two have got most of these people so drunk off of each syllable that comes out of your mouths that they can't see the lies hiding behind each one."

"It's done, Gregory," Maggie snapped. She was fed up with his bitching.

"I'm not!" He yelled, glaring at her angrily. "I'm not done! This is my house, _my_ responsibility! Whatever happens from here on out will be my neck stretched out on the chopping block!"

"Oh, is that it? You're worried about yourself?" Maggie scoffed and shook her head. "I can't say the revelation surprises me."

"And it shouldn't! Are you kidding me?" The Hilltop leader was nearly beside himself in disbelief. He threw his hands up in the air, a sign of defeat. "It's true. I can't undo what you've already set in motion. It's a snowball rolling down the biggest hill in the world, and it won't stop after it reaches the bottom, no. It will just keep getting bigger and bigger."

The pregnant widow lowered her brows. She understood his reasoning, and she wasn't keen on the idea of war either, but this was, as her father Hershel would've said, the time to strike out in a new direction. To close the book on this obsolete way of life and start something new. She rubbed her protruding belly and inhaled sharply.

"I don't know how else to explain this to you so that you see it the way we do," Maggie stated carefully. "Maybe you've lived under Negan's thumb for so long that you're startin' to depend on it, and that's fine. I can't say I blame ya…but we don't acclimate like that, and we won't learn to. He took what was most important in my life, and I don't want it happening to anyone else. Not anymore."

"Maggie," Gregory groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He was tired of hearing the same wilted story from her, and Maggie tried not to let the old grump's reaction hurt her feelings.

"The world is gone!" She flared, her emotions flying out of her control. "There ain't hardly nothin' left but us, and we're stuck picking up the pieces, tryin' to push them back together. It's hard, Gregory, it is! But I'm not raisin' my child in a place where he has to fear more than the dead. That's already too big of a burden to bear."

"You think Negan's the only one," the Hilltop leader laughed. He sunk down in his chair, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass.

"I'm not that naïve," Maggie replied through clenched teeth, "but the sooner we're rid of someone like Negan and we all band together, the better off we will be against someone who decides to follow in his footsteps."

She took a moment to watch him as he plugged the cork back in the bottle and raised his glass to her.

"To new fucking beginnings regardless of whose lives are lost along the way." He threw it back, swallowing the amber liquid in one gulp. He grimaced and wiped his mouth. "Next, you'll be wanting to call yourself leader of Hilltop. Am I right?"

"Get the fuck over yourself," she crossed her arms, appalled. "I really hope this conversation is the last we'll have on this topic."

Gregory shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her condescendingly. "As you said, what more can I say to further explain to you the way I see it. You're going to do what you want anyway."

Maggie nodded, and turned to walk out. She really need a fucking nap.

"When this is all over," Gregory said to her retreating back. She stopped, but didn't turn to face him. "I want you gone. I don't want to see your face inside my walls again. If we're all still alive, that is."

He huffed out a derisive sigh as his office door slammed. He picked up the whiskey bottle once more, unplugging the cork and pouring himself another hefty drink. He stared at the door as he brought the glass to his lips, pondering exactly what he wanted his next move to be. Whatever it was, it involved enlightening Negan of Miss Maggie and her crew's plans, and whether that involved their deaths or not, he didn't care. He was doing it to save the masses, and to be honest with himself, to save his sense of security and importance.

"Let the bitch try," he mumbled to himself and grumbled random curses under his breath. "Let her fucking try."

* * *

He led me through the woods by my wrist like I was a child, and he didn't slow down until we neared the end, the tall metal siding of the warehouse looming in the background.

Negan didn't say much else after my breakdown. He sat silently on his knees while I wept against his chest, soaking his shirt and trembling in his arms. It wasn't until the rain started to fall, sprinkling the canopy of leaves overhead, did he gently haul me to my feet and pull me after him.

"You're gonna need another change of clothes," he commented, looking back at me.

I nodded and shivered as a drop of rain ran down my nose. So would he, but at least we both had our jackets on.

"Are you going to talk to me now?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

I cleared my throat and swallowed. "I didn't believe you when you said you'd kill me if I ran."

He smirked at me and chuckled.

"That's pretty damn bold. Why the fuck not?"

"For one thing, I wasn't running away," I peered up at him shyly and glanced away. "And while I know finding me just so you could kill me would be the heart of your driving force, I don't think you would."

"Sweetheart, you've seen me work," Negan protested.

"And I've been your victim, too," I countered. "That's all I've ever really been…until recently."

He scoffed, but remained silent. For once in his life, he was backed into a corner and I was the one who had put him there.

"I see more of you now than I did before," I spoke slowly.

"Bullshit," he snapped grumpily and quickened his pace as we exited the trees. We had no cover from the rain without them. "And what the fucking shit do you mean you weren't running away? Laura made it pretty clear that was what you were up to."

"I think you might have misunderstood her. That or she's a liar," I blinked water from my eyes as we rounded the corner to the front of the building. "Either way, I wasn't running. I may be an idiot to you with no self-awareness, but I'm not that damn stupid."

"Okay," he relented, coming to a stop at the warehouse doors. We huddled under the small canopy there. "I'm piqued. Continue."

"Did you hear her scream?" I questioned as my teeth chattered and my gashes stung from the rain. I attempted to cross my arms over my chest to stay warm, but Negan still held my right wrist.

"Yes…" he spoke, his features hardening. "I thought it was you, more so when Laura came barreling out of those woods like a bat out of hell."

"I couldn't hear her and not do something."

His mouth became a firm line as he gazed at me, squeezing my wrist slightly. He shifted his weight leaning toward me as he narrowed his brows. He wasn't happy with my reason.

"You told me once you admired that about me," I reminded him, and he rolled his eyes.

"And I do, but Jesus fuck… You nearly got yourself killed!" He bellowed.

"I know!" I answered hotly. "And I don't feel great about it. There were better ways to do what I did, but I acted impulsively if not predictably. And I was afraid to wait or go back for you. I didn't want you to deny me or…to be too late to save her."

Negan and I looked through the glass doors simultaneously. Everyone was relaxed inside, and Rachel sat surrounded by the only women in our group, eating a sandwich while Theodore sniffed around them.

"You did a good thing," he looked back at me and I met his light brown eyes. "But you've got to start using some logic. I also mentioned to you how motherfucking emotional you are and that doesn't mix well with snap decisions."

"Clearly," I replied sarcastically, and I was confused to see him smile. "What?"

He shook his head. "You're starting to act like yourself. You sort of had me freaking back there at the river with you all catatonic and mute."

I looked down, feeling sad and vulnerable again.

"Yeah," I whispered.

"I'm sorry," he said, releasing his grip on my wrist and running the same hand up to my shoulder. "I'm sorry for what happened to you, and I'm sorry I was dumb enough to let you and Laura go alone. That was my fucking fault."

I gazed him, perplexed. "Really? You're sorry?"

He shrugged and let me go, pulling the door of the warehouse open.

"Get inside and change. You're responsible for the new girl. Get to know her, make her feel at home, and let me know if you get anything useful out of her." He held the door open for me as his dark eyes whisked inside. "That's your new job until we get back to the Sanctuary."

A spark of hope flared inside of me. Maybe we would be going back sooner now.

"Will we be going back as soon as we leave here?" I asked.

" _You_ will be, yeah," he replied, staring at my forehead. "We've got to wait out this storm first. Try not to do anything fucking stupid in the meantime."

Negan grabbed my sleeve and ushered me inside. I smiled to myself, excitement temporarily winning over the dread that had set a dead weight on my heart. I would be seeing Daryl soon, and I wanted to be in his arms again more than anything. And we'd be in the Sanctuary without Negan. This might be our chance to leave.

"Don't think about getting cute," Negan came up behind me, his lips to my ear. "I'll only be half a day away."

He patted my bottom, directing me to Rachel who sat with Laura and Lydia.

"Where will you go?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"I'm going to see a king," Negan smiled. "Now get to know the new girl. And get some fucking rest while you're at it. You look like shit."

I rolled my eyes as he sauntered away, a wink his departing gesture. Get to know her, sure. I would do that. Rachel was a new set of eyes, seeing and hearing things none of us knew about yet. Her former group was dangerous and, the way Leigh had spoken about their assumed leader, reclusive. Who knew what their numbers were or what they had. That could be to our advantage and add to our cause. Whatever I learned about them, I'd let someone else handle them personally. I'd seen enough of who those people were to not want to experience more. There was potential for them to be allies, but I mostly viewed them as another clan of enemies. Whoever they turned out to be, maybe Rachel would open up to me about her former group, and maybe what I shared with Negan would be superficial.

He wasn't the one planning a revolution after all.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Sorry this chapter is short. Going back to school has really chaffed my metaphorical balls, and I'm grumpy as hell as I get used to a new sleep schedule (a.k.a. I ain't gettin' no sleep). Anyway, the next few chapters might be short as well as I struggle to find free time to write. Sorry about that.**

 **For those of you who could, I hope you were able to enjoy the eclipse! I managed to run outside every fifteen minutes at work to watch it. It was pretty sweet.**

 **Thank you, Blue Moon, for your review! The Vikings were some crazy ass people who did some crazy ass things. History can be very interesting sometimes, and kinda sick. lol**


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

We left when the storm cleared, the roads slick and misting as we drove over them. Negan was sending Rachel and me back to the Sanctuary with some others. Since he half blamed Laura for what happened earlier, she was coming back with us and she wasn't too thrilled about it. She kept throwing me cuffing looks over her shoulder as we flew down the road, but I tried not to pay her any mind. She was the least of my worries, and I was thankful she wasn't the one driving.

I was in pain all over, and my body shook from the effort to control it. I attempted to sleep or make my mind focus on other things, but the searing discomfort was overwhelming. I managed to let out small whimpers sparingly, only conceding to the suffering when we hit a bump or swerved haphazardly. At one point, I thought I might lose my mind when we came to an abrupt stop several yards away from a congested junction, the four-way stop bustling with the dead wandering in multiple directions. We were forced to back up and find another way around which lengthened our trip back by at least an hour, and by the time we were back on track to the Sanctuary, the nails on my good hand were leaving marks in the cushions.

Not much later, but long enough, I saw the towers of the factory rising to an apex in the sky. Today was a day for many first as I felt a force of sheer relief at the sight which I never thought I'd experience. Similar to how I didn't expect to become acquainted with half the things I'd lived through today, but life has many twist and turns and I manage to hit every damn corner.

The warmth from Rachel's hand cradled my broken one. She closed it with both of her own, keeping it trapped in a soft, fleshy cocoon. I glanced over at her, but she was focused intently on the appearance of her new home, and a soft smile lit her bruised face.

"This is the Sanctuary?" She whispered to me as her eyes stayed glued to the fortress before us.

"The one and only," the driving Savior, Jay, responded. I saw him giving her a glance in the review mirror and an odd feeling of protection came over me.

"It's so big," Rachel gasped in wonder. "How many people live here? Are all the floors active? Do people share rooms? Will I have to share a room with someone? Where does everyone sleep?"

"Whoa, slow down, newbie. Don't get too excited," Laura remarked and she turned in the passenger seat to watch her with a smirk. "You won't get a tour until we get you examined by our remaining doc. When he gives you the okay, then you can find out all the answers to your questions."

"Oh," Rachel replied, her face falling a bit, and I squeezed her hand with my bad one as best as I could while biting back a scream.

"We'll be going to the infirmary together," I assured her, giving her a small wink to signal that I would answer any questions she had. She returned it with a shy smile and a nod.

We rolled through the gates, Rachel rotating her head to gander at every passing thing. She was a curious one and very animated. It made my heart ache for her more since it showed how innocent she was. She was only a child, and those men had wanted to rob her of that. Watching her now, though, I could see she was tough. She didn't give in easily, and she was open. She didn't censor herself at all.

"Out," Laura demanded, and we all obliged.

Rachel kept hold of my swollen hand and I climbed out the small SUV. I wasn't particularly keen on going to the infirmary right away. I had my intentions set on something rather different and much more important, but I figured I could get myself cleaned up a bit before I saw Daryl. He was going to be a wreck when he saw me, so maybe looking less like road-kill and more like myself would be a good thing.

With a sigh, I walked hand-in-hand with Rachel despite wanting to withdraw my tender limb to myself. Negan told me I was responsible for her until she became acclimated, so I let her cup my hand like it was a bird with a broken wing. Laura shooed us through the corridors at a painful pace, wanting to be rid of her burden quickly. Once we hit the stairs, she branched off from us, saying someone else would be by to get the new girl to show her to her room.

"You won't come back?" Rachel asked her disappointedly. It made Laura smile a bit.

"I'll be around. Come find me when you're ready and I can kick your ass at some foosball," Laura replied. She gave me a fleeting glance. "Everly."

"She's mad at you," Rachel observed as I steered her up the stairs, taking each one carefully.

"Apparently," I groaned, placing a bracing hand on the concrete wall.

"She seems nice though," Rachel smiled almost trancelike. It gave me goose bumps. "Where would I find her to play foosball?"

I looked her face over, trying to decipher the odd expression she was making. "There are a few tables scattered around. I imagine you'll catch up to her at some point, so don't worry."

"Oh, I don't worry," she shrugged lightheartedly. "I think I'll be okay here."

"Are you?" I asked, furrowing my brows. "I mean, are you okay? You seem..."

"What?" Rachel asked, the smile dropping to form a serious line. "Not how a rape victim should act?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but I couldn't form a word in my head, let only speak one. I snapped it shut, embarrassed.

"It's okay. People have always said I was weird. It's a quirk."

"I didn't mean to imply that you are weird," I began to backpedal.

"No, I am," Rachel nodded, "but that's alright. And besides…that wasn't the first time."

I whipped my head toward her, baffled. "Rachel-"

"Don't. Its'-" she stammered and let out a chuckle. "It's how we lived, so I'm used to it. I didn't always like it; maybe sometimes if the guy was nice to me and he was gentle. And I would fight back sometimes, when I really didn't want to, but most of the time I would just let it happen."

We'd made it to the infirmary floor and stopped by the stairwell entrance. I was agape and attempting to process what was Rachel was telling me.

"I'm sorry you had to experience part of it with me," Rachel lightly patted my purple hand. "But I'm also glad that you did. If you hadn't shown up, I'd still be with those assholes and they'd have hog-tied me and drug me all the way back to camp."

I scoffed, shaking my head. I didn't know what to say. "Well, I didn't enjoy the encounter, but it's fortunate I was able to save you."

"Well, you didn't really save me," Rachel countered sweetly. She tilted her head to the side with a small smile. "Negan did. We were both in deep shit until he showed up."

"Oh," I mumbled, my cheeks flushing. "I guess you're right."

I took my hand from hers and opened the stairwell door, holding it open for her to pass through. I led her down the hall to the infirmary, lumbering stiffly as we went.

"I supposed I could give you some credit," Rachel mused. "You being there did bring Negan, so I do have to thank you for that. Is he your boyfriend?"

"No," I answered flatly.

"Really? Seemed like he might be the way he talked about you to Leigh," Rachel continued to contemplate. "He was very collected that entire standoff, but I could tell he was sweating a little."

I shrugged one shoulder. I wasn't sure what to say to her.

"God, the way he bashed Leigh's head in," she kept talking. "Leigh was always such a cocky dick, and Negan gave him exactly what he deserved. Has he done that to a lot of people?"

"I wouldn't know," I responded, halting by the infirmary door. I turned to look at her. "Be careful around Negan. He did save our lives, but there is much more to him than that."

"Like what?" She shrugged. "I like him so far. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him."

"He's a murderer," I replied, perplexed once more. This girl _was_ weird.

"And?" She smiled up at me, reaching past me to open the door. "I might be, too."

I grabbed her wrist, constricting her movements and a dangerous spark flared in her eyes. I immediately let her go.

"Have you killed someone before?" I asked.

She nodded, her lips lifting once more but the fire I ignited in her stayed bright. "Many."

"Is that normal for your group, too?"

"Yes."

"And Leigh was your leader?"

Rachel laughed then, a high pitched, tittering guffaw.

"Hell, no," she snorted. "He was one of Alpha's men. She let him have control of a few guys because she felt that was his worth."

"Alpha?" I questioned.

"She is my leader," Rachel clarified. "Well, was."

"And she let…men do this to you?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but Rachel seemed unfazed. It was nothing new to her.

"She said life is better when you can take what you want when you want it. Like animals. It's the only way to survive in this new world."

"That sounds like a load of shit."

I was getting angry and the wounds on my face throbbed with each surging pump of blood. Who the fuck were these psycho people?

"Yeah, it might be, but it's kept us all alive," Rachel said and stepped past me to push through the door.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before following her in. There weren't many people in the medium sized room, and I saw that Dr. Avery was already attending to Rachel. He looked up when I came in, the charming smile he always had burying itself into a frown of disapproval.

"My God," he expressed, letting go of Rachel's shoulder and walking over to me. "What the hell happened?"

I gave Rachel a brief gaze as she settled onto a cot, looking unconcernedly around the room.

"We were attacked," I answered numbly. "Negan sent us back as soon as the storm cleared. I wasn't… I…"

"It's alright," Dr. Avery hushed me. He led me gently to a cot by Rachel's. "Just take a seat, and I'll get to you in a minute."

"Worry about her first," I pointed to the small brunette to my left. "She's dealt with more trauma than me."

"Yeah, but you look worse," Rachel teased. I would've smiled back at her if the remark didn't sound uncivil.

"Right," Dr. Avery said, giving me a sideways glance.

I shook my head and beckoned him to Rachel. As he examined her, Rachel recounted what happened, going into vibrant, gory details when she got to the part about Negan showing up. She was a good storyteller, articulating and depicting details I couldn't remember - not that I wanted to. The brown-haired teenager was so engrossed in her story that the other patients had sat up to listen to her, and they hung off every word she said. Even Dr. Avery became so distracted by her narration that she had to direct him back to his task.

After handing Rachel a cup of water and some pain medication, the doctor began his examination on me, asking if all of my injuries were from the same ordeal. I gave him my side of the events, not describing an account like the girl had, but informing him of how I came to achieve each and every bump. He nodded solemnly as he listened, never tearing his eyes from me. He wasn't happy when I told him how I hurt my hand, but he said that it might not be broken.

"Fractured at the least," he concluded. "I could take an x-ray if you want me to."

"Just wrap it," I replied.

He obliged, doing as much and setting an ice pack on it. He handed me two pills before moving to my face.

"This will hurt," he warned.

"I figured," I smiled weakly at him. "I'll try to be still."

And that was feat in and of itself. The pain pills were slow to work, but even when they kicked in, the jabbing pain of the needle didn't subside.

"Oh, don't be a baby," Rachel muttered. She had slumped on her side in the cot and watched us intently.

"Go to sleep already," I _bit_ out, giving her an admonishing glance and she smiled in return.

"Both of you zip it," Dr. Avery cut in, but his tone was light. He was just finishing up when the door was pushed in and Daryl barged into the room.

"Daryl," I breathed, sitting upright and clutching the sheets underneath me in my left hand.

He stared at me, stunned and his hands limp at his sides.

"Can I help you?" Dr. Avery asked, confused.

"He's here for me," I replied for him.

"Is _he_ your boyfriend?" Rachel whispered dramatically. I sighed and closed my eyes.

The doctor took in my expression and the growing anger on Daryl's. He gave me a wary look, silently questioning if it was okay that Daryl was present. I gave him a nod, and Dr. Avery cleaned up his tools, stepping back to let the fuming hunter by my side.

"I'm gonna fuckin' tear that bastard's throat out!" Daryl exclaimed. He went to storm out, but my voice stopped him.

"Don't leave yet," I told him pitifully. He strode up to my side, sitting on the cot and bringing a hand up to cradle the decent side of my face. I nuzzled into it and watched the rage ebb and flow in his blue eyes.

"Who's 'that bastard'?" Rachel blurted. "You mean Negan?"

Daryl looked between Rachel and me, a bewildered expression on his face.

"I found her," I said, formulating words in my head as I talked. "I was in the woods… We were on our way back when I needed to take a break and-"

"She found me being attacked in the woods, and when they saw her, they got her, too. They gave her most of what you're looking at right now," Rachel butted in again.

"They?" Daryl directed to me.

"Some dipshits from my old group. Negan killed them, though, so we don't have to worry about them anymore," the talkative teenager responded. She was watching Daryl closely. "Oh my god, you _are_ her boyfriend. Look at how mad you are!"

"Rachel," I cut in.

"Dude, does Negan know about him?" Rachel inquired with a buzzing laugh. She flopped back on her cot and started to pick at her dirty nails.

"I'll tell you all about it later," I told Daryl softly. "For now, go get Dwight. He needs to escort Rachel to her new room."

Daryl shot the young girl a piercing gaze before looking back to me. "I don't give a fuck about her. I'm here for you, and I ain't leavin' here 'til you do."

"Go get Dwight," I repeated. I widened my eyes slightly, trying to tell him that Negan's scarred lieutenant was needed for more than babysitting.

Daryl heaved out a sigh, placing a tender kiss on my brow before standing up.

"I'll be _right_ back," he whispered gruffly to me.

I gave him a wan smile as he turned to leave, and the doctor took up his spot once more.

"You'll be in pain for a while, but I can't prescribe you anything stronger than Motrin without Negan's permission, or someone higher up. However, Dwight might give you the all clear when he comes by. In the meantime, try not to submerge your stitches, pat them dry, and keep them uncovered. They'll heal faster."

"Thank you, Dr. Avery," I said.

He smiled. "Of course. Did I cover everything? You don't have pain anywhere else?"

"I think you got it," I said, rubbing my side where Ben had elbowed me. "I'm just going to be very sore for a while."

Dr. Avery nodded in agreement. "Just let me know if something doesn't feel right."

"Okay," I said, but I didn't let on to the fact that nothing felt right. Not my body, not my mind, and not the strange girl who lay staring in the bed next to me.

* * *

"Where the fuck did you find her?" Dwight asked me as he, Daryl, and I ventured down the hallway.

"That's a long story," I sighed. I didn't want to get into the topic of Rachel or her discovery. "I'm sure you'll know all about it soon enough. The girl can't keep her mouth shut."

"You're telling me," Dwight replied. "I assume I'll learn all about what the hell happened to you, too, huh?"

"Eventually," I replied, but said no more.

He led us into a smoky room with a table in the middle and a tv and fridge in the corner. Once we were all in, he looked both ways down the hall before shutting the door. He pointed to the table where three men sat, cards in their hands, poker chips on the table, and cigarettes smoldering at their lips.

"Take a seat," Dwight suggested, sitting in a chair himself and grabbing a hand of cards from the table.

Hesitantly, I looked at Daryl for confirmation and he nodded his head, pulling out a chair for me. I sat as he dragged another over, sitting closely by my side. He took my left hand in his, rubbing it softly as he watched me and waited for Dwight to start talking. Dwight took a pull from his beer and lit a cigarette; he pointed to each man as he introduced them.

"This is Trevor, Kyle, and Ashby. They've become good friends of mine over the past few months. They already know who you two are, so no need to introduce yourselves."

"Nice to meet you," I greeted them, and they greeted me back.

Dwight waited for Daryl to say anything but began speaking again when he realized he wasn't going to.

"I've asked them to help me out on a walker situation up north. They've agreed," Dwight took a long drag off of his cigarette. "They've also agreed to help me get you guys up there so you can get back to Alexandria."

I went wide eyed, suddenly nervous at this information. I turned to Daryl, expecting him to be upset and ready for a fight, but he looked calm if not worried.

"We've been planning this for a while now, Everly," Dwight answered my unasked question. "It seems like the right moment is upon us, and we'll have to move quickly."

I nodded my understanding, not wanting to interrupt him in case we were walked in on.

"The plan is to drop you off north of the city. I know Alexandria is down south, but that'll be the first place he goes to look for you two. Taking you up there will be dangerous with all the dead shits ambling about, I know, but there will be a cabin not too far from the drop-off point. My plan is to visit the Kingdom on the way back, and I'm going to use that time to speak to King Ezekiel about an alliance as well as buy you guys safe harbor there for a few nights."

"Are you sure this will work?" I speculated.

"Something can always go wrong, but it's the best we got so far. It'll have to," Dwight answered.

"Okay," I said, mulling things over. "But I have one thing to share."

"What's that?" Dwight asked curiously.

"Kai. I met him at Somerset," I said and swallowed nervously. "He caught me looking at the security cameras and sort of cornered me."

I glanced over at Daryl whose mouth was set in a firm line, the sides of his jaw bulging. I went on.

"He told me he wouldn't tell Negan what I was up to unless I agreed to work with him. When everything is over and Negan is dead, he wants his position," I finished.

Dwight scoffed. "I'm sure that's the reason you're all fucked up now, right?"

"No, actually," I said, "he stuck to his word, for the most part. He has to follow through on the second half to not be a liar."

"Second half?" Dwight asked and leveled me with a stern gaze. "You mean you actually made a fucking deal with him? What the fuck did you tell him?"

"Everything," I whispered.

Dwight threw his hands up in the air, shaking his head in disbelief. The three other men shot sideways glances at each other, and Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his chair. I didn't dare to look over at him. I'd just dropped a bomb on them all.

"Well, now that we know Kai's a two-faced backstabber," the man named Ashby broke the silence and not without meaning. "What was the second part of this condition?"

"To get Alexandrians guns and ammo," I revealed. I centered back on Dwight. "That's where you come in."

Dwight sighed in annoyance, smashing his cigarette into an ashtray.

"You could have really fucked us over. Kai is-" Dwight sneered and looked down at the table. I lowered my gaze, not blaming him one bit for being upset with me. "He's not fucking trustworthy, and the fact he wanted to make a bargain with you to usurp the man who gave him the title he has now, which is pretty damn good by the way, should have been the giant red fucking flag that snapped you the fuck awake."

"I wasn't left with much choice!" I argued. I wracked my brain desperately for a reasonable explanation, but I was failing to make sense to myself, so I grabbed onto whatever I could. "I was locked alone in a small, dark room with the man. I don't know when the last time you saw him was, but he's not a skinny asshole like you are. I'd been threaten and overworked from the moment I left this shithole, so excuse me if I wasn't thinking clearly while I was trying not to piss my pants!"

"Okay!" Dwight snapped in a harsh whisper, leaning over the table at me. "Keep your fucking voice down."

"He wants more than he has, that's all I know. He saw me as an opportunity, and he took the chance, and I did the same." I glared at the scarred man and worked to slow my breathing down. "We're depending on each other, though I'm sure Negan would have no trouble killing the both of us if he became privy to our scheme, and I think that's what will make this work and keep Kai quiet. He might pretend he has immunity from the truth, but he knows he'd be just a screwed if Negan ever found out. He gets what he wants out of the situation and so do we. It's a win-win for both sides and snitching now would be reckless, not to mention counterproductive. Kai would get nothing out of going to Negan."

"I think you're underestimating him," he said.

"Maybe, but what choice do we have now?"

Dwight took a moment to analyze and slowly shook his head after a minute or two. He was still pissed.

"What does this mean?" Daryl spoke up.

He's voice broke me from the defensive trance I'd fallen, and I sat back in my chair, relaxing my sore muscles a bit. He squeezed my hand reassuringly, but he kept his focus on Dwight who shrugged his shoulders in defeat, an incredulous smile on his face.

"Who the fuck knows? We may very well be fucked before any of this shit gets started," Dwight answered, shooting me a chiding look. "But seeing as _you're_ sitting here and not locked in a damn cell, that leads me to believe that maybe Kai is holding up his end…for now, at least."

"I'm sorry," I bit out, angry tears beginning to blur my vision.

"Look, forget it," Dwight said, letting out a nasally sigh as he took another swig of his beer. "Don't worry about Kai. I'll deal with the meathead. You guys just focus on getting out of here and back to Alexandria as soon as possible."

"If we make it out," I mused pessimistically.

"You will," Dwight said, "if you start thinking and stop taking stupid fucking chances."

I curled my lip at him, disgusted and thoroughly done with the conversation. I stood up, the chair scrapping noisily on the floor.

"Dwight, every damn move we make until we die will be taking a chance. There's no winning anymore without a gamble. If you're not sure that's true, go take a look in a fucking mirror."

I left then, my last comment an ode to my overall mood. I was past feeling like victim, like I hadn't done enough, or hadn't made the right decisions. I was still alive and so were most of the people I cared about, and no matter what I did or how I did it, I intended to keep it that way.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Ah! It's here! It's a day late, but it's here! So sorry for my tardiness.**

 **So, Rachel's kinda fucking sketchy, huh? I'm not totally sure what I'm going to do with her yet, but I did plan for her to be a bit off. If anyone has read the comics and has guessed where she's from, you'll know why. I wonder if she's going to stir up any trouble... Hmm...**

 **Have a fun and safe Labor Day weekend! :D**


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

King Ezekiel passed through his gates, the steed between his legs slowly strolling down the asphalt outside his kingdom walls. The beast twirled his tail leisurely in the moist afternoon air and the dreaded King wished he could feel the same requiescence, but he kept his features narrow, not wanting to showcase his inner feelings lest it open him up to scrutiny from his enemies and his people. He was a leader - a king - not a coward, and he intended to promote himself in that manner; especially to those who desired everything he had and strove for.

"The oppressor awaits your presence, sire," Daniel, one of King Ezekiel's top soldiers, informed as he meet him in the deserted road.

"What does he want?" the king asked in an impatient tone and pulled the reins to stop his horse.

"He did not say, your majesty. Only that he desires an audience with you," Daniel replied, bowing ever so slightly.

King Ezekiel looked over his shoulder to Jerry, the protector of his body and spirit. Jerry held an air of unease, but he gave a quick nod of his head to signal that he would be by his king's side unwaveringly.

"Are my men stationed accordingly?" King Ezekiel beseeched Daniel, and the younger man nodded an affirmation.

"Yes, your majesty."

The monarch studied him for a moment and then looked past the soldier's shoulder into the distance where a load of impetuous men awaited his arrival.

"Appoint a small garrison beyond the gates and lock down the Kingdom. If I should not return by the sun's final rays, cease our truce with these mongrels, call on our allies, and declare war."

"Yes, sire," Daniel bowed, lowering to one knee. He rose swiftly, climbing onto his own filly, and galloped at full speed back to the Kingdom gates.

King Ezekiel gave his soldier one last fleeting look before the matching gaze of Jerry aligned with his.

"After you, your majesty," Jerry said.

The King sat forth and rapped his heels into the steed's sides, sending him off into a trot. The pair came upon the assemblage who waited in deadly silence, the backs of his men the first sight to glean his eyes as they pressed in a horizontal line. They stood vigilantly between him and those who called themselves the Saviors, and King Ezekiel had one last cursory instant to question the motives of these unwelcome visitors before he descended his ride and stepped purposefully forward. As he broke the manmade barrier, a taller gentleman with slicked-back black hair trilled a low whistle, his smiling face a shadow that vainly covered the evil in his heart.

"Well, how do you fuckin' do," the man said. He lounged casually against the front bumper of a truck, but pushed off with ease, a barbed-wire bat rising up to crest his shoulder, when the armored soldiers parted for their King to come through.

"May I present his highness, the one true ruler of his kingdom and ours, his grace, King Ezekiel."

The royal leader came to a halt no more than an arm's reach away from his men; his faithful bodyguard, Jerry, an umbra at his back. He returned the tall, leather-wearing man's smile as benignly as he could, openung his cloaked arms in welcome but remaining in silence. He was offering the floor for this dark stranger to begin.

"Wowie," the man chuckled and rubbed his chin, leaning back as he did. He gave a meandering shrug and chuckled once more. "Well, if your royal ass hasn't guessed by now, I'm Negan, and if I can be goddamn frank, I have been waiting for a long fuckin' time to make your acquaintance. This whole fairytale bullshit you've spun up and shit out around here is mighty intriguing, and I've gotta say that this first impression is not disappointing in the least. I didn't believe half of what these dipshits told me, but I'll be damned… You _are_ a fucking nut job."

King Ezekiel's smiled broadened at the insult and he lowered his arms. "The pleasure is all mine, Sir Negan. To what folly do I owe this…unmarked visit? Have my offerings not been sufficient?"

"No, Mr. High-and-Fucking-Mighty. You're offerings have been shit as of late, and the fact that you were the one to bring it up makes me safely assume that you were aware of that shit before I showed my pretty ass up," Negan pointed a gloved finger at the other man.

"Your sycophants have made my soldiers quite aware of such at their last rendezvous," King Ezekiel replied graciously. "It displeases me to say that our lack of donations do not stem from defiance but rather an inability to produce. We are in a time of paralysis. My soldiers do not return to me successful but with empty arms. Our crops do not flourish as the God's air surrenders to the fickle tide of the seasons. My people are suffering from these shortages, and as the common saying goes, "Doth the river run dry, so doth the mouth of babes."

A snort was heard from behind Negan's shoulder, and the bat wielding leader took a moment to stop himself from releasing the bubble of laughter that expanded in his chest. He rubbed his chin again, waiting for the impulse to pass before meeting the eyes of the Kingdom's leader once more.

"See, that's where I'm gonna have to call bullshit on you, you half-cent Shakespeare. I don't buy for one titty-licking second that you don't have enough shit inside that renaissance festival you got going behind those walls." Negan cocked his head and tightened his grip on Lucille. "I bet the minute you stroll through those damn gates you have a fucking turkey leg in one hand and a harlot in the other. What exactly is it that you're hiding back there, _King_ Ezekiel? How much of my shit are you keeping from me?"

The friendly expression melted from the royal ruler's face and was replaced by a seething scowl.

"I have no more than what I gave you earlier in the week. If you are not satisfied with your compensation, then perhaps we can make other arrangements."

" _Or_ ," Negan said, holding one gloved finger in the air, "I can murder the lot of you goony fucks where you stand and then I wouldn't have to waste the time of asking anymore. _This_. Is _not_. A negotiation!"

The leader of the Saviors strode forward in his fury, and King Ezekiel's men marched up, surrounding their leader. Negan stopped his twitching hand from cocking back Lucille and swinging her into the unlucky head of the first person she could find. He stood in front of the king's blockade and finished what he wanted to say, his own men converging at his back.

"Now, I don't know about you and how you're spending your days role playing, daydreaming, or whatever the fuck it is you call what you're doing, but I'm a man of my word. When I say I want my shit, I want it. When I say I will bust down your fucking door and split the belly of every last motherfucker who stands in my way, I will. Make no mistake of my intentions, Ezekiel. I will get what has been promised to me, and that quota has not been filled the past few weeks which leaves me rather fucking perturbed," Negan threw out his arms, an angry smile adorning his cheeks. "So, instead of using my dirty girl to knock any screws you have left loose in that unhinged skull of yours, I'm gonna show you just how forgiving of a man I can be."

The Savior leader released a sharp whistle and the men at his back raised their guns. One man in particular ejected himself from the rear of a box truck, holding an RPG on his shoulder and crouching down as he aimed at King Ezekiel and his fighters. Negan's Saviors quickly moved backward to their vehicles, guns trained on the foe in front of them as their leader remained rooted to his spot, the smirk growing larger on his self-righteous face.

"I'll spare your lives and those of your people if you give me five men and five women as recompense; none of them old, sick, or dying, but young, healthy, and capable. I want your peons to march off and collect them while we keep an eye on you. If I suspect any tricks during their absence, you're dead. If they come back with more soldiers or weapons, you, all of them, and the rest of the assholes you got holed away in fantasyland will be dead. However, before I make you meet your ass and kiss it goodbye, I'll be sure to pick the youngest little prick you got and beat the fucking fuckity-fuck out of his soft head. As for the women," Negan glanced behind his shoulder at his men, "we'll pick out the ones that suit us and slaughter the rest."

The composure King Ezekiel had veiled himself in had rapidly unwound thread-by-thread. His mouth twitched downward in a grimace and his eyes were glowering, black cannons. Each word out of Negan's mouth was a jarring slap to his face and the sting was made more astringent by the reality of how frail his position was. He asked for a bargain and Negan wasn't providing that to him. The sovereign man wasn't sure what exactly he expected, but he did not dare think for one moment that some of his people would be taken away. He would rather die than surrender them, but his death would be a bleeding wound in the security of his kingdom.

"Your majesty," Jerry began, but his king held up a hand.

"It would not do to surrender ten of my people to you, Negan. I am afraid we need as many bodies we can spare to assure you that no more shortages of what you require are imminent," the king spoke slowly, deliberately. If he could not convince this violent man to otherwise leave his people be, he will have failed them as their protector. "I can however, give you our share of the portions. My people will have to fare the best they can until we can supplement the loss."

"Ezekiel, I know we just met, and maybe it takes you a while to understand the words from someone who's normal and actually had fucking friends growing up, but I thought I made myself pretty damn clear before. Did I not?" Negan asked, turning to the armed men behind him.

"I thought you were Liquid Fire clear," Simon remarked buoyantly while the rest snickered and nodded.

"See, even they understood what I fucking said and I wasn't even talking to them." Negan flicked a thumb over his shoulder. "I won't repeat myself, Ezekiel. I'm going to go relax in my truck and have a smoke. By the time it burns down to its last ember, I better see my five men and women in front of me. I'm warning you," Negan smiled, "you don't want to witness what will happen if I don't."

"Richard," King Ezekiel's upper lip spasmed as he spoke, "Alvaro, go retrieve five men…and five women. Pay mind to who you choose lest our guest becomes increasingly unsatisfied."

"But your majesty," Richard protested.

"Do it!" King Ezekiel roared, snapping his head to glare at the soldier.

The two men threw sharp looks at Negan and his men before running back to the Kingdom gates. Negan bestowed King Ezekiel a wide smile before turning to walk to his truck, whistling a jaunty tune.

"Your majesty," Jerry spoke lowly from his king's side, "are you sure this is the right decision?"

"No," the king sneered, never tearing his eyes away from the pompous man as he flicked open a lighter, the flame licking the stick of death between his lips. "But I am left with little choice. It's either ten lives, or all of them. I must choose the lesser of two evils."

"Certainly, your majesty," Jerry muttered sadly.

Some time passed and no one uttered a sound. Negan was nearing the end of his smoke, the burning tip a pull or two away from reaching the butt, when Richard and Alvaro returned, five men and five women in tow. They were confused, scared, and they all looked at their king with worry.

"I present to you your subjects, your majesty," Richard announced.

"Bring them forth," King Ezekiel ordered, and his soldiers did so.

"What's going on?" One wary man asked as Negan hopped out of the truck and threw his butt to the ground, smashing it beneath his boot.

"Please tell us," a woman begged, resisting the pull of Alvaro's hand on her arm, while Negan moved forward with one hand on Lucille and the other resting on his belt.

"Load 'em up, boys," he commanded and his Saviors moved forward, grabbing the now panicking men and women to shove them roughly inside of different vehicles.

The downtrodden king finally lowered his gaze, refusing to witness the kidnapping of his people. He was of the conviction that this would be solved if he could accumulate and furnish Negan with whatever bounty available, but he'd already attempted to negotiate that tactic and failed.

 _There must be another way_ , he yelled in his mind, but as screams echoed in his ears, he was painfully aware of how limited his options were. Negan had not given him many - only one.

"I'd say it was nice to meet you but," Negan let out a breathy chortle, a sinister gleam in his eyes, "I don't think you'd feel the same way. After the shitty day I've had, though, you've really lifted up my spirits. Thanks for the laughs…and the men and women."

He gifted King Ezekiel with a simple wink. Negan and his men entered their vehicles, starting them up and backing away. Once the raging fracas of their engines vanished, King Ezekiel took in a shaky breath and turned away from his soldiers.

"My king?" Jerry asked worriedly, but his leader held up a hand.

The noble man composed himself, letting loose a small river of tears before bringing his head back up and squaring his shoulders. He took a deep breath and swallowed to clear his throat.

"Find Jesus," he requested monotonously. "Tell him I am interested in this new group he speaks of. I want to unite with this Rick Grimes, and... hear his proposition. Tell him that war is finally upon us."

* * *

Daryl caught up with me a ways down the hall. I felt him by my side as he walked up next to me, but he didn't say a word – only followed. I wasn't sure where I was going; if I was headed to my room or his, or if I wanted to bust through an outside door and run until my legs gave out. I would easily leave Negan, Dwight, and all the misery of this place behind if it could be done that simply, but I fought back the impulse, telling myself to make a good decision for once.

"Everly, stop," Daryl said, grabbing hold of my hand.

I yanked it from his grasp, running my fingers through my hair. I turned in circles anxiously, the yellow lights in the hall making my vision suddenly bleary.

"Everly?" Daryl voice held concern.

"I can't breathe," I gasped and clutched a hand to my breast.

"Whoa, s'alright." He placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Don't touch me!" I flung his hands away from me and backed up a step, delirious.

"Okay, okay. I ain't touchin' you… Just, fuckin' breath or somethin'." Daryl attempted to calm me down.

"I'm trying," I heaved and bent over to put my hands on my knees, taking in deep, aching breaths.

My left side leaned against the wall as I slowly slid down to a crouch. Daryl stooped beside me, providing a bit of space as to not overcrowd me, but he reached out a tentative hand, his fingertips brushing my knee.

"Daryl, don't. Not yet."

He withdrew his hand and placed it with the one between his knees. He let out a nasally breath and watched me patiently. I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around myself as I focused on calming my furious heartbeat. Maybe if I talked I would feel better. I licked my lips and cleared my throat, forcing a lump down before trying.

"I-I don't blame you…anymore. Not much, anyway."

"Blame me for what?" Daryl asked after a beat.

"For being with Roxanne. I don't blame you. I'm not mad anymore," I clarified and peeked over at him through my hair. "All of that doesn't matter."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I never-"

"No, don't say anything," I cut in. I pushed my hair behind my ear so I could see him more clearly. "I don't want to speak her name anymore or hear about what happened. Let's just put it behind us and promise each other to never abandon the other again. My one and only mistake was pushing you away that night in my room and I've regretted it ever since. I'm sorry for that. I was just trying to protect you…and protect myself."

"Ya don't need to be protectin' me." He slowly moved up closer. " _I_ wanna protect you, and I'll be fuckin' six feet in the dirt before I let ya out of my sight again. D'ya hear me?"

"Yes," I muttered as tears welled in my eyes.

"Come 'ere."

He opened his arms and I crashed into him, burying my face in his neck. We sat on our knees for a bit as he held me while I cried on his shoulder. He ran his hands up and down my back, and the tension and fear that had built up inside of me beginning to ebb. I took in a shuddering breath and forced back a rising sob, wiping my eyes with my good hand. I pulled away from him to sit back on my heels, leaving my hands to rest on his shoulders.

"I missed you," I whispered, and he smiled ever so slightly.

"I missed ya, too."

Not wanting to throw away an extra moment, I fervently pressed my mouth to his. His lips moved with mine, their motions just as desperate. When he deepened the kiss, my chest constricted again and I pulled away, terrified.

"What's wrong?" His face was a mask of apprehension.

"Nothing. I'm just feeling panicky still," I replied honestly.

"Let's getcha to bed," he said and gingerly lifted me up. "Do ya wanna talk 'bout what happened?"

"No," I answered, but changed my mind. "Yes. If I hold it all in, it'll eat me alive. It might take me a while, but I need to tell you everything. No more secrets between us."

"Okay." Daryl hugged me to his side as we walked down the hallway.

When we reached my room, he opened the door for me, allowing me inside the dark space. I stepped in and studied it, the light from the hall illuminating the area just enough for a whole sense of ease to wash over me at seeing its familiarity. Despite the room not really belonging to me, it was still my space, and I felt relieved at being inside of it again.

I took off my jacket and threw it on a chair before stripping off my boots, socks, and pants. I slunk over to the bed and climbed under the covers, sinking into the cotton sheets. I turned when Daryl didn't follow and saw him standing by the open door indecisively, his hands in his pockets as he stared at me.

"Get in bed with me," I told him.

Quietly, he closed the door, locking us in with the pressing darkness. I heard him move forward and kicking off his shoes along the way. He walked past the end of the twin bed, surprisingly with little difficulty, and to the other side, pulling back the covers to lie down next to me.

"Take off your shirt," I demanded before he could get in.

He was silent; probably trying to work through the pros and cons of doing such a thing considering the state I was in. Before he could protest, I sat up on my knees and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one motion. I ran my hands over his hard, smooth shoulders, down his arms and to his wrists. I pulled him down with me as I lay back and he settled in next to me.

"Hold me?" A tremor broke my voice, and I bit my quivering lip to steady it.

Daryl slid closer and pulled my body into his. I pressed my tender face under his chin and squeezed back the tears that wanted to escape again. I centered on the heat emanating from his chest, cuddling into him as I put one arm around his side.

I told him about my trip with Negan. How it all started and who I met. What words were said and the information I learned. I went into more depth about my run-in with Kai and the implications it could have, talking about my worries and hopefully not instilling too many in him. He offered his opinion or suggestions every once in a while, but he mostly kept silent. It wasn't until I got to the part about finding Rachel that he became restless, the muscles in his arms and chest contracting as his anger grew.

"You ain't ever leavin' me again," he fumed.

"I won't," I promised, and he kissed me.

"I'm so sorry." He let out an enraged sigh, holding me tighter to him. He slackened his hold when I whimpered from the pain. "I'm gonna fuckin' slit his throat."

"He did save me," I mentioned again.

"I don't fuckin' care. He put ya in that situation. It's like he did it his damn self, the piece 'uh shit."

"Just focus on me," I said and cupped his cheek. "Forget everyone else here. Let's just focus on each other and getting out of here."

He kissed me again, his mouth hard and passionate, but he didn't linger.

"Go t'sleep," he suggested.

"I don't think I can," I acknowledged but his words had me less tense.

"Me neither."

My body was extremely tired, but my mind was wide awake. I wanted to close my eyes and fall into nothingness yet I was afraid to try. I didn't want to lose the feel of his arms around me.

"Don't go anywhere," I practically begged him suddenly, holding onto him tightly.

"I ain't leavin' you. Not ever," he soothed as he ran a hand up my shirt and across my back.

"I never told you about my brother." A pang of guilt hit me but I wanted to keep talking to keep my mind occupied. "Remember when we went to Alexandria and you asked me what my favorite food was?"

"Yeah," he answered and I could hear a smile in his voice.

"I said 'his'. Do you remember that?"

"Yeah." Daryl continued to rub my back up to the nape of my neck and down again.

"I meant my brother," I revealed. "Whatever he liked, I liked. He was all I had. His name was Mason, and he was murdered by my step-father."

His cycling hand came to a stop, and I moved mine over his chest to feel his heart pounding inside.

"I left him. I abandoned him and left him alone, scared and heartsick because I was too much of a coward to take him with me."

I began sobbing again, not holding back, and Daryl held me against his chest as I cried on him for the second time in one night. His chest was slick with my tears, but his hold was firm and comforting as I got out as much as I could.

"It wasn't your fault," he mumbled in my hair.

"It was," I choked. "That's why I wa-was afraid of being with y-you. I don't want you to die."

"I ain't dying," Daryl assured.

"You don't know that," I argued and moved away from him. "Negan or anyone else here could kill you whenever they feel like it. No one would have a second thought."

"They would've done that by now if they were goin' to," Daryl countered.

"Bullshit," I sobbed and held onto him again. "It doesn't matter anyway because I'm already in love with you. No matter if I pushed you out of my life, that wouldn't change a thing."

Daryl pulled back this time, his hand gripping my upper arms.

"You're in love with me?"

 _Oh, shit._ Had I meant to say that?

"Ye…Yeah," I answered unsurely, the tears ceasing. "I care so much about you, Daryl. It couldn't be anything else other than love."

He held me away from him, and for a tense moment I thought he might leave, unable to reciprocate my feelings. But in the next moment, he tenderly gathered me in his arms once more and planted his lips delicately on my brow, holding them there.

"I love ya, too, Everly. I always will," he whispered. "I'm yours even after my heart stops beatin'."

And the smile that rose on my face was bittersweet. I was elated that he felt the same way but scared I would lose him more easily now. If there was ever a curse in love, it was opening yourself up just to be slammed back down on your ass. Happy endings were the makings of a fairytale, not real life, and this life was more real and visceral than one could dream. It was a nightmare – a chaotic, never-ending nightmare.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

"Jesus!" King Ezekiel exclaimed, his deep, sonorous voice echoing in the large auditorium. He sat upon a wooden throne centered on the stage, a staff in one hand and chains that leashed a rather large, predatory cat in the other. "It pleases me to see you, old friend!"

"It pleases him indeed!" Jerry raised his left arm in exultation.

"Jerry…" the king cut a chastising glance at his personal guard before setting a warm smile on the long-haired and bearded man before him, examining the group of new people at his back. "You have brought me new allies, yes?"

"I am pleased to see you as well, your majesty." Jesus bowed slightly before turning to Rick and the other Alexandrians briefly. "I have, your majesty. This is Rick Grimes of Alexandria and a few of his members. They have come on your behest but with a request of their own. Although, I'm sure you will find that your decrees are very similar."

"Doubtlessly similar," King Ezekiel chimed, rubbing the neck of his chained tiger, Shiva, as he studied his new acquaintances. "I am no stranger of the circumstances you wish to find a resolution to. Jesus has informed me of your quest for such. Step forward, weary travelers. Let me gaze upon you."

The group did so, spreading throughout the multiple rows of the theater. The striped animal by the king's side gave a monstrous growl, one of suspicious impatience, which hindered any further movement from Rick and his group. They looked to one another dubiously, hints of fear on all of their faces, when a stern, but quiet voice pulled their attention back to the stage.

"Shiva," King Ezekiel admonished with a quirk of his lips and a quick pat on her head. She settled down next to her master, tediously placing her head between her paws and puffing out a short sigh as her green eyes remained on the potential feast before her.

Noticing their expressions of unease, the Kingdom leader raised his staff to beckon the new group forward again. "Do not fear the beast, my friends. She is naught but an oversized house cat. However, considering her size, her idea of playful teasing can be rather…intimidating."

"You're telling me," Michonne whispered under her breath to Carl.

"It's okay. If she pounces, I can out run you," he replied, a whimsical glimmer in his blue eye.

"Not if your clumsy feet get caught up on my boot, you won't." She squinted back at him and bumped his shoulder with hers. "Brat."

"Ezekiel," Rick pronounced loudly, stepping forward to Jesus' side. "King Ezekiel. I want to thank you for allowing us passage into your home. It means a lot to us that we can come together in our time of need…as allies."

The king smiled with a light nod of agreement. "Yes. I see no better opportunity for us than in this moment when we both struggle to draw air into deflated lungs. Pray tell, what is your story, Rick Grimes of Alexandria? I have heard tales, but its origin will be pure from the mouth of its father."

"Well," Rick drawled with hands on his hips, "I'm not familiar with how you lead your kingdom, but I ain't one to share roles with someone who doesn't want to share back. In reality, it's been more…takin' than sharin', and I think you know what I mean by that."

King Ezekiel dipped his head once more, a signal to Rick that he understood.

"Negan, the Saviors, they didn't ask for our alliance. They didn't offer us a fair trade. We tried to neutralize the threat before it became a problem, but we were unaware of what they were… We took out one outpost, thinking there might be a bit more to it, but we were not prepared for what happened next. They came back with a vengeance and stole more than half of what we had, killing too many of our people in the process. _Good_ people… Their names were Glenn, Abraham, and Spencer. Two more they stole from us." Rick took a moment to gather up his emotions before he spat them out in an uncontrolled garble of words. "We were given no choice but to comply. All of our weapons, even kitchen knives, gone; they took it all. We have no way to defend ourselves against Negan and his thieves…. Or we didn't until recently, but we'll need your help; us and the Hilltop. Together, we might have a chance to win our freedom back."

King Ezekiel held up a hand to express he'd heard enough and Rick complied with silence. The monarch was processing the information as he glanced back and forth between his guards and top soldiers that surrounded him on stage. The answer was already present within him. It was finding the courage to speak it aloud that he was waiting for.

"The same predicament is plaguing us. We, too, have lost people to the violence of the swine herd that has dubbed themselves the Saviors." King Ezekiel let out a curt laugh. "The Saviors! Oh, the irony is so strong it turns sugar to salt on our tongues. But what is this I hear? Your town was pillaged, your defenses stripped from you, yet you have found some subsidiary means?"

"You are correct," Rick said. "We were able to find guns, ammo, and other forms of artillery at a village called Oceanside. It's not much, but it's a start."

"Were the people of this village Oceanside complimentary?"

"Maybe not at first," the former sheriff answered honestly. "But we did offer them protection and their weapons back once the war is over. We also promised not to reveal their part in providing the guns to us."

"It seems they did not provide anything to you but rather you _took_ from them as others have taken from you." King Ezekiel's smile had fallen into a straight line. "It is no bother now. You have already secured these armaments with nobility or not. I will not condemn you for one fault but repeat it and I shall. If we are to be allies, you must not operate in similar fashion to the enemy. Otherwise, what will we truly be fighting for?"

"Excuse me, your majesty, if I may." Jesus stepped forward and placed a placating hand on Rick's shoulder. "The acquirement of guns from Oceanside was not an easy one. Yes, we did take from them, but not before attempting to ask for them first. Their leader, Natania, is bitter and afraid. Without these weapons we would have nothing, but we left on good faith. I promise you that."

"I see," King Ezekiel mused. He pursed his lips as he studied the people before him once more, their faces hopeful. "I assume they did not relent willingly?"

"Not at first as Rick said," Jesus continued. "But when we saved their village from an attack against the soulless, they allowed us to leave peacefully. No one was hurt."

The king thought this over, clearly not impressed with how the Alexandrian's conducted their business. In the end, however, he decided that these people were not to be deemed a threat. They were desperate and scrambling on broken knees. He believed Rick Grimes and the people of Alexandria would make amends when the occasion arose, and Jesus had nothing but good tidings of their honor to regale his majesty with.

"My king, you saw what they did," Richard spoke from King Ezekiel's side, beseeching him. The soldier's eyes moved between his ruler and the one of Alexandria. "We cannot think to live with this tyranny any longer. We must act before it gets worse, and the time is now. We have weapons, and if we strike first, we could defeat Negan and his Saviors easily."

"You speak freely, Sir Richard. Perhaps not without vigor," King Ezekiel mused, his free fingers drumming on the arm of his throne. "Very well. I did not invite you here to test my conviction, but rather build an alliance, and fair people of Alexandria, I have come to a decision. From here forth, we shall be united against the common enemy that is known as the Saviors. We will fight in arms, one a protector for the other. We will not turn our backs on the greater good, but persist in the face of death until defeat possesses our breath and leaves our hearts hollow. We are brothers and sisters and side-by-side we shall remain until the great war is done."

"Until the great war is done!" Jerry announced enthusiastically, his arm in the air once more.

"Jerry." The king met his bodyguard with a look of annoyance.

"Let's discuss our plans, shall we, your majesty?" Jesus asked, an amused grin scratching the corners of his mouth.

* * *

A few days had gone by since my return. Things were gradually going back to normal, but I still felt disconnected, like I wasn't always inside my body. I only felt that way when I remembered being in the woods or seeing Ben's rabid face above mine. It was no help that Rachel spent nearly most of her time with me, following my every footstep. I was very sorry for her predicament, and I didn't fault her much for her odd behavior, but it did leave me uneasy, and I was growing discontented with her company.

Thankfully, she hadn't shown up to my usual post in the supply room which gave me the entire day to breathe. Since Negan's arrival, she'd done nothing but ask questions about him or sneak shy smiles his way as we knelt on the ground. I was starting to think that she was growing fascinated with him, perhaps even infatuated. It was a creepy thought, but I didn't put much effort into trying to control her. Rachel had already made herself clear on her feelings toward Negan. She was grateful to him. He had rescued her and given her a new home. In her eyes, he was the perfect leader; he protected and provided for his people. There was nothing more she could ask for…

"Everly!"

I gasped, jumping slightly and tensing my still sore shoulders. Rachel bounded up to my side, a sweet smile on her face as she looked up at me.

"I've had _such_ an amazing day. You'll never guess what the guys showed me!"

 _You're right. I won't._ The words scrolled in my mind, but I carefully chose the ones that came out of my mouth.

"What happened?"

"Okay, so, there's apparently a place downstairs where people go to drink, play games, and generally go to shoot the shit after the days done. Jared invited me to go with him tonight!" She let out a giddy squeal. "He said he'd teach me how to play foosball and that Laura would be there. He even said I could have something to drink and _Negan_ might show up."

"I don't think it's such a good idea that you go there, Rachel. Especially not with Jared," I said, a look of concern creasing my brow.

"Why not? Everyone goes there. It's not like I'll be raped again." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms stubbornly.

"Rachel," I sighed, exasperated. "I wasn't implying-"

"But you were," she accused. "These people are good, Everly. They look out for each other. They take care of me unlike you. I know I annoy you… That's the only reason I talk to you anymore."

A quiet scoff left me, but I felt embarrassed. I guess I wasn't as good at hiding my moods as I thought.

"That was really rude, Rachel."

"Then that makes two of us." A snarky smile graced her lips. She flicked up a brow as she looked me over. "Still not sleeping well, I see."

"No," I growled, grinding my teeth.

 _Be nice_ , I warned myself and squeezed my fingers in my palms. _She's a victim of abuse. This isn't her fault._

"I'm having nightmares and…panic attacks. So, you could say sleep is rare and fleeting."

Daryl had been staying with me since I'd gotten back. Waking up to him the past few mornings had been great. It would've been perfect had the both of us been well rested each time, but I was waking up constantly during the night screaming, crying, or unable to breathe. He'd hold me and stroke my back until I calmed down, but it left us both exhausted. I felt bad being the reason he was missing out on so much sleep. Daryl insisted on being with me, though, no matter how much I told him I'd be okay by myself.

I smiled thinking about him, but Rachel's whining voice broke it.

"Aw, that's too bad. I don't give those fucks a second thought unless _you_ bring them up. I do like to remember what it looked like when Negan killed them, though."

"I can't say I blame you." I tried to sympathize. "I don't like to remember it, but people get through trauma in different ways."

"I guess." She lifted one shoulder, having the decency to look ashamed. "We're just different."

"Rachel, if you do need someone, you know I'm always here…even if we don't necessarily see eye-to-eye."

She nodded, a humble look ghosting her childish features. "Okay."

"Please, don't go tonight. You don't need to be down there messing with all of them. I know you're starting to look up to the Saviors, but there are better role models here."

"I was invited, I'm going." Rachel's face hardened again, and defeat overwhelmed me. I didn't want to try anymore.

"Whatever."

"Find something that distracts you."

"What?"

Rachel blinked up at me with a smile. "You'll get through what happened more easily if you can find something that holds your attention longer than thirty seconds. It's always worked for me and it's so much easier to do it with people who have your well-being in mind."

With a flip of her hair, she turned on her heel and pranced out the door. She was so bubbly and optimistic. It was hard to place her as the same girl I found crying and screaming in the woods earlier in the week. But it made me realize that what happened didn't have to control me. Rachel was special in that she took what life handed her and made it into her own. She didn't let it mold her, she molded _it_. And maybe that was another fault of mine, too. I didn't take enough control.

That was something I promised myself I would work on. It may take a while, but I felt capable, and with Daryl by my side it would be that much easier. I pined to see him. I didn't like not being with him constantly, but it was impossible here. We had obligations, and Negan certainly wasn't going to give me any downtime. Not that I minded much as being by myself would only serve to drive me into madness faster.

Once my shift was over and Suzanne wished me a good night, I headed to the showers, ready to rinse off the day and, with enough self-control, sleep well for once. It was as I was heading in that direction that I saw her, and I couldn't stop the scowl that marred my face.

Roxanne was dressed in her usual get-up: not much. She clacked down the hallway with a purposeful stride; the halter top and skirt she was wearing not doing a whole lot to cover what bits they were supposed to. Her gaze was icy as it settled on me but I gave no indication that I recognized her or that I knew what had happened between her and Daryl. I shifted my eyes to a door at the very end of the hallway and focused on it intently, trying to stop my lip from twitching into a snarl.

"I need to talk to you."

The hardness in Roxanne's voice has me looking at her again as she came to a stop in front of me.

"I don't need to talk to you," I replied as lightly as I could. When I attempted to step around her, she moved in front of me, blocking my path again.

"I'm not asking."

She was taller than me but mainly because of the high heels on her feet. She was slimmer if not more well-endowed, but if it came to a tussle, I was sure I could out maneuver and overpower her. She looked like she hadn't lifted anything heavier than a fake designer handbag in her life.

"Move out of my way," I responded through clenched teeth.

"No." She placed her hands on her bare hips. "I have some things I want to say to you and if I don't do it now, I probably never will."

"Then spit it out so I can be on my way."

"Not here," she whispered, looking around. "Where were you headed?"

I huffed in irritation. "To my room."

"Perfect." Roxanne smiled tightly. "Keep walking there. I'll be right behind you."

"No way," I snarled. She might already know where my room was but I didn't want to take the chance of her finding out if she didn't nor did I relish the thought of being alone with her. "I was going there to get my stuff to take a shower. Meet me in the locker room instead."

I pushed roughly past her, not giving her a chance to respond. I walked briskly to my room, throwing glances over my shoulder and taking a longer route just in case she decided to follow. Once I had what I needed, I vigilantly trekked to the locker rooms, making my way inside and putting my stuff down on a bench. Instantly, she was by my side, a frown on her face.

"This is too public."

"Not my problem," I replied, not bothering to look at her as I got ready to shower.

"If Negan finds out what I'm going to tell you, half my face will be melted off."

I stopped at the revelation and met her eyes, confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, so now you want to hear me out?" She sighed and glanced around before moving in closer to my side, picking up some of my things to examine them. "Have you been with Daryl since you've been back?"

"What any concern is that of yours?" I snapped, yanking the bottle of conditioner from her.

"Has he told you?" She asked, jutting one hip to the side.

"Told me what?"

Roxanne laughed, licking her top lip as she looked down at her feet. "I can tell by how jealous you're acting that he hasn't. That kind of makes this more fun. I wonder if that means something…?"

I squeezed the bottle of conditioner in my hand, ready to chuck it at her head at the wrong words. Her comment regarding Negan melting half her face off made me think she had important information to divulge, but it seemed she just used that line to suck me in.

"Did you really just seek me out to taunt me or do you actually have something significant to say?"

"I'm thinking maybe not so much anymore." Roxanne flipped her blonde locks behind her shoulder, scrunching her nose in a mocking smile. "You're too cute when you're mad. No wonder Negan wants a go at you. Maybe you guys can invite me for a little ménage a trois. That'll be fifty points apiece, though"

"Roxanne?" I smiled sweetly.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck off."

I gathered the things I would need in the shower and stomped past her to an empty stall. I heard her following me, but I took it as an opportunity to work on taking control. The things she said didn't have to affect me if I didn't listen to what she said. And if I did happen to hear whatever bullshit came flowing out her mouth, well, I had a perfectly good left hand.

"You don't need to say mean things," she admonished as I placed all my items in the shower.

I ignored her, turning the water on as soon as my arms were empty. I quickly undressed, putting a plastic bag on my bandaged hand, and stepped into the shower, shutting her out with a swift yank of the curtain. The warm water washed over me as I wet my hair, but coldness pressed over me from behind.

"I didn't fuck him."

My movements halted, water running from the top of my head, over my wound and into my eyes. I couldn't blink.

"I wanted to, and I almost did, but he kept pushing me away. Negan made me. He saw how drunk Daryl was and thought it'd be easy. Offered me 200 points if I could do it."

Her words were a deep chill that ran up my spine, my skin prickling from the sensation.

"Being the giant whore that I am, and the order coming from our fearless leader and all, I couldn't say no. It _was_ 200 points, and I still haven't used them up yet. Plus, Daryl isn't such a bad catch either. I was ready to give him everything I had."

I acted then; self-control be damned. I twirled to see Roxanne's smug face jutting from the side of the curtain and into my personal space. In a flurry of motions, I pulled the curtain out of the way and grabbed onto her with my left hand. She released a strangled yelp as I jerked her inside the shower with me, pushing her against the tiled wall as my left forearm pressed into her chest.

"If I so much as see you near Daryl or even looking in his general direction _ever again_ … I will make the possibility of Negan sticking a hot iron to the side of your face a fucking privilege. _Do not_ test me. Your shit will be so fucked up that not one asshole here will be able to recognize you. How will you earn a living then?"

"Alright!" Roxanne yelled. "Get off of me!"

I moved away, pushing her out of my stall. She landed on the concrete floor with a wet smack, one of her drenched high heels left behind by my feet. All the women had stopped to stare at us and I gave them all a nasty look before kicking Roxanne's shoe at her.

I closed the curtain again in one angry tug and went back to showering, although I was considerably angrier than before. I did feel relieved but it was tailed closely by guilt. I had already forgiven Daryl for his 'transgression' with Roxanne, yet the fact he never slept with her made me feel so much worse. I had told him never to speak about her anymore, and he'd done so willingly despite not being able to reveal the truth. That was my fault, and he'd taken the blame for something he hadn't done, anyway.

"You're too good for me, Daryl," I whispered.

I wanted to grovel at his feet and beg for _his_ forgiveness. More importantly, I wanted to find Negan and finally slap that smug smile right of his fucking face.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Thanks for your reviews last chapter! I'm happy you guys enjoyed the much anticipated Daryl and Everly time. (More to come on that end, too. *Wink wink*)**

 **Things will get worse before they get better, I will say that. Just like the hurricane at my door... Well, it's a tropical storm now, but it's still really windy and wet! Anyone else who's a victim to this horrible hurricane season, stay safe and strong!**


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

After my shower, when my things were properly deposited in my room, I found myself stomping angrily down into the bowels of the Sanctuary toward the hideaway. Rachel said Negan might be there tonight, and I was fervently hoping that would be true as I didn't want to wait to give him a piece of my mind. Although it would probably be best if I let my fury die down a little before I confronted the physical embodiment of brutality, a whirlwind of boldness propelled me forward. I couldn't stop myself no matter how much my better judgment told me to, and I burst through the hideaway doors without a fuck to give.

I stopped short as multiple heads rotated in my direction. I paid every pair of eyes no mind, looking for a specific irritating face to bludgeon with my one working fist when I saw him with her. The shock literally pushed me back a step, the disgust I felt rising like bile in the back of my throat. Rachel was hanging off of one of Negan's leather clad arms while he held a drink and smoke in the other. He wasn't looking at her but clearly was aware of her presence. How could he not be with her smashed up against him like she was?

"Fucking bastard," I sneered to myself and walked forward.

I weaved in and out of tables and people, pushing past the ones who happened to block my way. A few curses were thrown at me, but I was on a mission and deadlocked on my target. As I got closer, Negan's joyous, smug face turned in my direction, his eyes lighting up at the sight of me.

"Everly!" He beamed, raising his glass to me. "What the fuck brings you down here?"

"Oh, wait! Let me guess." Simon stepped forward and swayed, a pensive look wrinkling his forehead. "You realized how dull and meaningless your life is and you want to drown your sorrows in my newest batch!"

He held up a mason jar filled with a grainy, yellow liquid.

"I call it Eight Ounces 'cause that's all it takes to royally fuck your shit up! Take a swig!" He held out the jar to me, sloshing some of the putrid liquid out of the side.

"Negan," I returned, ignoring the drink in Simon's outstretched hand but giving both men a steely glare. "I need to speak with you… Alone."

I spared a glance at Rachel who still clung to his arm and was casting me a rather nasty look.

"Ooooh, alone?" Negan's eyebrows rose as the dimples in his bearded cheeks deepened. "I like the sound of that."

He handed Simon his glass and cigarette, brushing Rachel's desperate fingers from his jacket.

"I thought you were going to play foosball with me and Laura," she protested as she shot daggers at me. When Negan looked down at her she rapidly gave him a doe-eyed look and bit her lower lip.

"Some other time," he said dismissively and grabbed my elbow to steer us to the hideaway doors.

"Don't _talk_ for too long!" Simon called after us. "Wouldn't want your tongues…to get…tired…or whatever. I'm drunk!"

Negan chuckled and guided me back through the doors into the damp and frigid hallway. My hair was still wet as I hadn't taken the time to properly towel it dry before rushing down here. I was beginning to regret that now since my bravado was wearing down a bit and the cool air had me shivering.

"Where do you wanna talk?" Negan's warm breath next to my ear startled me and I jumped back a bit.

His hand still held my elbow, so I didn't get very far before he pulled me close to his side once more, a salacious grin on his face.

"Nowhere in particular," I replied, taking my arm from him and moving away. "This is fine, actually."

Negan frowned in disappointment. "Not exactly what I had in mind. I was thinkin' something a little more private."

He reached for me again, his fingers brushing the damp hair from my neck, and I smacked his hand away.

"You're a real fucking asshole. I don't get to tell you that enough."

"Oh, is that what you came all the way down here to say?" Negan lightly chided as the corners of his mouth curled up devilishly. "You can tell me that as much as you'd like if we can move this upstairs to my bedroom."

"What in the exact hell are you doing with her?" I demanded, avoiding his last comment.

"With who?" Negan instantly became confused.

"Rachel."

"Uh," Negan began, a look of bewildered amusement plastering his face. "I don't fucking know. I never fucking realized I was doing anything with her."

"Really?" I lowered my brows. "You had no idea what she was doing hugging all over you?"

Negan laughed in astonishment and licked his bottom lip. "You're fucking jealous."

"I am _not_. I'm concerned," I clarified, appalled. Of course he'd turn it around like this, the arrogant dickhead.

"Yes, you _are_ ," he argued and bent toward me, his face in mine. "It's kinda hot."

"She is seventeen years old, Negan."

I wanted to move further away from him. He was obviously a bit drunk and I remembered how brave he'd gotten with me the last time I had seen him this way. I didn't want to be the bearer of any unwanted advances, and I hoped he had enough sense in his inebriated state to notice my lack of enthusiasm as an answer.

"It's harmless." He waved a hand in the air. "She's smitten, and I can't blame her."

"It's disgusting is what it is. She is a child, and a damaged one at that. You should be showing her how a man should treat a woman, not perpetuating the fucked up views she already has." I shook my head. "You are the exact opposite of someone she should be looking up to."

"Listen," he sighed, seeming to take me somewhat seriously now, "I barely noticed she was there. Yeah, she was a tiny bit clingy, but I'm used to that shit. I didn't think twice about it. Don't be mad at me, baby."

He stepped forward and attempted to wrap his arms around me. I put my forearms against his chest to push him away, ready to give him the smack I'd come down here to bring him, when Daryl's enraged voice interrupted us.

"Hey!"

 _Aw, fuck._ This was not good.

"Daryl!" Negan sang and squinted at him with a sarcastic smile as he slowly let his hands fall from me. "I didn't know my redneck buddy would be joining us. How the fuck are ya, man?"

Daryl stomped up to him, a heated glower in his eyes, and pushed his chest with everything he had. Negan stumbled back, barely catching himself on the wall before he fell on his ass.

"Daryl!" I yelled in a panic, grabbing his arm.

"Stay the fuck away from her!" He spat in a rage. "I'll fuckin' tear your ass apart!"

"Daryl, don't!"

"Oh, tough words comin' from such a tough guy," Negan mocked as a smirk tightly concealed his anger and he straightened himself.

Just then a few Saviors came through the door, alert. We must have created enough of a ruckus for someone of them to hear over the music.

"What's going on?" One Savior I recognized as David spoke and he gazed between the three of us. "You alright, boss?"

"Just goddamn dandy," Negan replied, his fingers twitching.

"The fuck you doing, country boy? Lookin' to get your ass whopped?" A long-haired Savior asked, stepping up to Daryl and me.

"Get the fuck outta my face, Jared. This don't concern you," Daryl shot back. The arm I held tensed and I tugged on it forcefully, trying to get him to back away.

"It's okay, Jared. I was just congratulating Daryl here on doing such a _wonderful_ job bringing ol' Doctor Carson back to us, and he was feeling quite thankful for having the opportunity. Ain't that right, Daryl?" Negan gave him a wide smile but his eyes were burning dangerously.

Daryl huffed out an angry breath and turned to take hold of my shoulder, keeping his eyes on the men in front of us. "Let's go."

I nodded eagerly, wanting nothing more than to be far away from this situation. My conversation with Negan hadn't quite gone the way I wanted it to, and I probably would have gotten the answers I came for had Daryl not shown up. Negan wouldn't have pushed himself on me any further, I knew that, and I mostly blamed the alcohol in his system for him being heedless of my refusal. Still, I hadn't planned on this type of vehement interaction; at least not from Negan's end, and I saw that the altering effects of his buzzed state influenced more than his amorous side.

"Not so goddamn fast," his voice stopped us. "Everly and I weren't done with our _very_ private conversation."

"Fuck your conversation!" Daryl roared with a graceful turn of his heel.

The Saviors rushed to intercept Daryl as he marched toward Negan, but I got to him first as I ran to block his path and obstruct anyone else's who wanted to come near.

"Enough!" I barked, trying to get through to him. "He isn't worth it."

"Aw, don't hurt my feelings now." I heard Negan remark and a few snickers escaped his men.

I cast a glare over my shoulder at the pompous ass which he returned with a wink and a quick lick of his lips. As I pushed Daryl's chest, he finally began to move down the hall away from them, and I tailed his heels closely.

"We're not done, you and me!" Negan informed my back. "I know you didn't seek me out for nothing, sweetheart! I wanna hear about what you want and how much you want me to give it to you!"

" _Ow-ow_!"

Lascivious cheers bounced off the bare walls and scraped against my scalp. I had the sudden urge to charge into Negan and drive my fist down his throat until I found the black, throbbing tumor where his heart was supposed to be and rip it out. My head stayed high, though, and my eyes locked on the side of Daryl's red and teeming face. The idea that if I put my hand to his cheek and I would be burned was a vapid thought, but it seemed likely with how utterly outraged he looked.

Once we hit the main floor and Daryl didn't seem to be letting up in his fast-walking marathon, I pulled on his bicep in an attempt to get him to stop. He started to yank out of my grasp, but his eyes softened when he looked at me. It was like he'd expected me to be someone else.

"Slow down." I tried to comfort him with a small smile.

"Sorry," he said as the anger on his face slackened a bit.

He pulled me into his side, his hand around my waist and flat on my belly as we continued at a slower pace to the stairwell. Going up the stairs, I could tell he was a bit tense and the air between us was thick with unvoiced accusations. Daryl had seen Negan and me at the worst moment, and I was afraid that he saw it differently from what had truly been happening, but I didn't know what to say. Different phrases and words filtered through my mind but they all seemed so trivial, so I kept my mouth shut until I could figure it out.

When we reached my door, I let us inside and closed it behind us softly, turning the lock. The small lamp at my bedside was on which dressed the room in a soft, yellow glow; it was soothing after the glaring headache of a confrontation we'd just had.

I shucked off my jacket and shoes as Daryl took a heavy seat at the small table near the door; his face was downcast and surly. "What were ya doin' down there?"

"I went to confront Negan," I explained vaguely. "What you saw, it wasn't what you think it was."

The burly man nodded his head and kept his gaze on the table in front of him. "What was it then?"

"It was Negan being a drunken asshole who, not shockingly, still has no concept of boundaries." I folded my arms and sat at the table across from him, taking in a long breath. "I'm sorry."

"'Bout what?" He asked, finally looking up at me.

"About…everything." I let the breath I held flow out and ran a finger against the grain of the old table. "Roxanne told me what really happened. How she lied about sleeping with you."

Daryl's shoulders stiffened, his whole body freezing as if he were a statue.

"She told you?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "She wasn't exactly pleasant about it. Things got a bit heated between us, but she came clean. I guess I'll give her some props for doing that much, the bitch."

Daryl snorted a short laugh as he relaxed into his chair.

"So, is that why you kicked her ass in the locker room?"

"Holy shit, you already know about that?" I asked astounded. News apparently travelled fast in this place. I wondered if Negan had already known by the time I'd shown up to accost him. No doubt he would by the time I had the chance to speak with him again.

"That's how I knew where to find ya." Daryl pushed his chair back from the table and turned it to the side so he could stretch his legs out. He rested his head against the wall. "You shouldn't be around him alone no more. I don't trust 'im no matter what he did."

I considered how to respond to that. I was still very afraid of Negan, but I found myself trusting him significantly more than I had a week ago.

"I won't if I can help it," I promised weakly.

Daryl locked eyes with me and we stared at one another in silence. He and I knew that if Negan wanted to be alone with me, he would. It was really beyond both of our control. But what Daryl didn't understand was that Negan wouldn't do anything to me against my will; not anymore. I tried to find confidence in that notion, and the memory of our one-sided conversation by the river, him crushing me to his chest as I wept, was a wonderful persuader.

A small, sympathetic smile crept up my face as I regarded the man in front of me. He looked tired and restless, and I saw him struggling with jealousy, too. It was possible he sensed that the dynamic between Negan and I had shifted, and it had. It was vital I showed him that the change wasn't a threat to our relationship. Roxanne's revelation was enough to prove that whatever else the Sanctuary leader had up his sleeve, it wouldn't work on me as long as Daryl and I stayed open and honest with each other.

"Why didn't you tell me before? That you never really slept with her?" I asked.

"I donno," he shrugged one shoulder. "I wasn't sure at first. Thought maybe I'd blacked out and done it, but something didn't seem right. So, I talked to her 'bout it and she admitted to lyin'. That was a week ago."

"Dammit," I mumbled under my breath, anger rallying in my stomach. "Why would she admit to it, though? Why would she come to me?"

My questions were met with silence as both of us tried to figure them out. Daryl tapped on the table agitatedly, and I placed my hand over his, squeezing it lightly in reassurance.

"She was probably feeling guilty, or maybe she felt cornered when her story wasn't holding up with the person she supposedly slept with," I offered. "Doesn't mean her intentions are bad."

"Naw," Daryl agreed. "Prob'ly not, but who fuckin' knows in this hellhole?"

His free hand ran down his face and he rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

"Hey," I said softly and held his hand more firmly to get his attention. "Only three more days and we're out of here."

He smirked. "Yeah… Ya ready?"

"No," I replied as my heart started to pound. "I'm terrified."

"I am too, but we'll make it out. I swear."

I nodded mutely, wanting to believe that I could sneak out of here with Daryl and go through with our plan before Negan discovered that I was gone. Dwight had already given the Sanctuary leader his request of men, Daryl being among them, and Negan had approved. It would have been stupid and suspicious to include me in the group, so the plan was for us to leave before the dawn. That way less people would be around to witness me with them and it would allow us more time to reach our destination before my absence was noted.

Their objective was to divert a growing walker herd along with delivering some prisoners to Somerset. That was where I would hide: in plain sight with the captives. At some point, Dwight would stop the convoy, allowing Daryl and I to take off under the guise of us somehow "overpowering" them with the detainees. Everyone would escape, no casualties, and Negan would hopefully hear of this anecdote with undoubting, albeit aggrieved, ears. The plan wasn't entirely foolproof, and I worried Dwight and his men would get caught in the lie, but it was all we had.

Daryl stood from his chair, my hand still in his, and the troublesome thoughts of our forthcoming journey dissipated as he took the short steps to stand in front of me. He pulled me to my feet, holding my waist with his other hand and pressed his forehead delicately to mine.

"We're goin' home, okay? You 'n me. Together," he promised.

"Okay," I whispered, believing him fully.

Daryl gathered me in his arms, locking me against him snuggly. I breathed him in and sighed, burying my face in the soft cotton of his shirt. I was content and relaxed; my previous anxieties not surfacing like they had every agonizing minute of this past week. And as he held me, I became hyperaware of how good he smelled and how solid and warm his body felt as it pressed against mine. My left hand ran up and down his chest of its own accord, liking the feel of the friction it made, and I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest once more as the beat curled pulsing fingers down between my legs.

I moved my head under his jaw, my hand sliding up the side of his neck, and I placed a kiss in the hollow of his throat. Leaning back, he gazed down at me as he ran calloused fingers across my cheek, bypassing the stitches, and into my hair. On tiptoes, I pecked his lips, bracing myself against him as I watched his eyes dilate, and he grabbed a fistful of my shirt as he eagerly pressed his mouth on mine, backing me up until the backs of my thighs hit the small kitchen table.

Daryl was frantic, hungry, and it was beginning to overwhelm me, but I didn't want to stop. Before the panic could hit full force, I took control and shoved him back until he sat on the edge of my bed. I flung my shirt off, tossing it to the floor before grabbing his by the hem and discarding it in the same way. My jeans slipped down my legs with ease, and Daryl started to fight with the buckle of his belt, his fingers shaking with anticipation. I didn't give him the chance to finish as I grabbed the back of his neck and straddled his lap, sitting flush against him and fitting my lips to his in a passionate kiss.

His fingers dug into the skin of my thighs as he deepened it, his tongue running over mine, and I moaned desperately into his mouth. I rolled my hips over his, grinding into the bulge of his pants, and Daryl let out a growl, taking hold of my waist to flip me on my back. Laying on top of me, not breaking our kiss, he reached between us to undo his buckle as I lifted slightly to unclasp my bra. It wasn't easy multitasking, but I got it done just as Daryl completed unbuckling his pants.

He broke his lips from mine to sit on his knees and push the waist of his jeans down. I took the brief opportunity to remove my bra, throwing it over the side of the bed, and Daryl stopped mid motion as he caught sight of me. I sat up and reached out helping hands, and he curled encouraging fingers in my hair as I took hold of his pants, pushing them the rest of the way down his thighs. He briskly slipped off the bed to take off his boots, leaving the rest of his clothes puddled on top of them, and crawled back onto the bed, kneeling in front of me.

I moved back quietly as he advanced, and his eyes never left mine as I bumped into the headboard. He smoothed a hand over the top of my leg, stopping once his fingers reached my panties, and my hand shot out to cover his when his fingers entwined with the cotton and started to pull them down. I was gradually becoming nervous, and I needed to possess some self-control before this moment was completely ruined. I wasn't going to let what happened in those wood stop me from living my life, from being with the person I loved. Taking a deep breath, I released Daryl's hand and he waited until I nodded my head to slowly slip the cotton panties down my long limbs.

"You okay?" Daryl asked as he hovered over my body with a look of uncertainty, trying hard not to touch me.

I put my arms around him, my hands flat on his broad back as I pulled him down onto me, but I kept my legs closed; still feeling shy. "I'm fine."

"Are ya sure? Ya look-"

I smashed my mouth to his, cutting him off. The last thing I wanted was my anxiety to scare him away. So instead of reiterating that I was okay, that I wanted this, I figured showing him would be faster and more convincing.

Grabbing his hand, I put it on my breast, and once I had _that_ situated, I reached between his legs and took hold of him, stroking his length with a firm but gentle hand. Along with sticking my tongue down his throat, my lewd actions seemed to thoroughly answer his question, and he returned them with vigor, kneading my breast as he grinded himself into my palm.

I couldn't say that my anxiety had disappeared completely, but I was so distracted by what I was doing to Daryl, and what he was doing to me, that it was easy to ignore it. It wasn't until he left my lips and ran his tongue under my jaw that my breath started to hitch with unadulterated desire. I felt alight between my thighs, and I arched my back with a moan, finally spreading my legs and releasing my hold on him as his teeth grazed the side of my neck.

Daryl abandoned my breast, trailing his fingers down my side and over my belly to the pulsing heat below. I jerked with the shock of his fingers against my sensitive skin, rolling my hips into them as they deftly moved back and forth. It had been a very long time since I'd been with someone and I felt the consequence of that deficiency already building up very quickly.

"Daryl," I gasped in warning, digging my nails into his shoulder.

Instead of slowing his pace, he picked it up, pushing two fingers into me as he moved down to circle his tongue around the peak of my left breast, and that was all it took. I shuddered, my eyes squeezing shut as I clamped down on his fingers, my voice a careless cry as I came.

His mouth was on mine instantly, his tongue exploring my mouth once more as the intensity inside of me decreased to a diming light. I held onto him tightly, running my hands anywhere they could touch, not wanting to lose the feel of him, and I bit his lower lip as he slipped his digits from me and replaced them with his enlarged member. Arching my back, he rubbed the head along my wet, oversensitive skin, soaking himself while teasing me. I impatiently rocked my hips against his, trying to catch him at the right spot, but he avoided me expertly.

I whined, pulling away from his lips to pout at him.

"We don't got a condom," he informed, and it only took me a second to consider this dilemma before I decided I didn't care.

I pushed on his shoulders as I sat up, driving him into the bed as I climbed on his lap.

"Tell me when you're getting close," I said before grabbing hold of him and guiding him to my center.

"Everly," Daryl groaned, pressing his lips together as he held my hips up firmly. I saw the struggle in his eyes, and I swayed over his tip in an attempt at conviction.

He grip faltered as he momentarily shut his eyes, letting out a deep sigh, and I sunk onto him a bit further. His hands tensed, holding me in place, but I brushed my fingers along his jaw and grabbed my breasts, my hips moving in a slow, undulating circle around him.

"Shit."

I smiled as Daryl let me go, allowing me to envelope him fully. I thought about assuaging his worries and telling him not to think about the risks, but dwelling on it wouldn't help either of us. Instead, I rode him with a reckless abandon, biting my lip with a smirk as I saw the pleasure forming on his face.

He sat up, placing his hands under my ass to help me move, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing his lips before moving over his cheek and to the smooth skin below his ear. I traced my tongue there, nipping his lobe slightly as I released a wanton sigh, and Daryl started to buck against me, his movements frantic and deep as I struggled to keep pace with him.

My legs began to tense and I felt myself nearing the edge once more. I leaned back on my good hand, the other sweeping across Daryl's glistening, muscled chest, and I thrust into him as the pressure between us built. My head tilted back, my hair still a bit damp against my skin, and I felt Daryl's panting breath on my sternum as he kissed my chest, moving from one breast to the other.

"Oh, fuck," Daryl grunted, and I knew he wouldn't last much longer.

I hooked my arm around his neck again, burying every inch of him inside of me as I rotated my hips. My orgasm hit me like a firework, exploding inside of me and surging down to my toes. I pressed my forehead to Daryl's, gasping in pleasure as he voiced his impending release. With lightening speed, he ripped out of my aching core and latched onto himself, working his hand up and down as he came on my stomach and breasts with a deep moan.

We sat stunned and exhausted, nose-to-nose, and tried to steady our breathing. I wrapped his sweat drenched hair around my fingers and kissed him, his lips swollen against mine. When I felt like I couldn't go on any longer, I pulled away, giving him one last peck and falling back on the mattress, my arms flung out wide and a satisfied smile on my face.

"We took way too long to do that," I remarked, and Daryl answered me with a rumbling laugh.

He gently moved one of my legs to the side and got up from the bed, finding a towel to clean himself with before he used it on me.

"Want a drink?" He asked, bending over me. I nodded my head languidly and he pushed his lips to mine with a smile.

As he went to my mini-fridge, I turned on my side and watched him, feeling more whole than I had since the turn. I'd only fallen in love once before, and it hadn't ended well for me. It left me shattered, barren, and I was most certain it would happen again. This time, however, I wouldn't be left for someone else. Instead, I had to dread losing my love to monsters that were both alive and dead, and it wasn't some asinine insecurity that lurked in the back of my mind. No, it was genuine and absolute, and it displayed itself in its entirety at the forefront of every fear I held.

When Daryl came back with the drinks, I took them both from him, setting them on my little nightstand. He gave me a skewed look as I rose to my knees, but I put my hands on either side of his face and gazed deeply into his eyes.

"I love you," I said. "Don't ever leave me."

"Never," he swore and crowded me in his arms with a kiss.

* * *

"Well, Gregory. What the fuck can I do for you?" Simon asked as he plopped down in a leather armchair of the Hilltop leader's office.

"I have some alarming information," Gregory replied. His hands were shaking as he took a seat behind his desk.

He figured that now was as good a time as any to make the Saviors aware of Rick and Maggie's plans for a coup d'état. He had mused over it since their last visit where Dr. Carson was brutally beaten by the lot of them and it was then that he came to his final decision to sell the Alexandrians. Negan had been nothing but a poisoned throne in Gregory's side since he'd "promised" the Hilltop protection for an uncompromised amount of supplies in return, but Gregory wasn't blind to the effort Negan put into keeping his area and his communities clean.

Sure, he was a bully that had threatened bodily harm, even murder, upon Gregory and his members, taking more than what was owed from them, but it was those threats and how fulfilled they were that kept him loyal to the Saviors. If Gregory believed that Alexandria and the Hilltop stood a chance against them, he _might_ be willing to considering their position, but the truth was that they didn't stand much of a chance. They would be fighting a losing battle, and he'd be damned if they were going to take him or his people down with them in their suicide mission.

"What…alarming information?" Simon asked with a wave of his hand.

The older man inhaled. "A man named Rick and his posse of ingrates came over here a week ago. He was here when Gavin and his men came looking for Emmett. After witnessing Harlan Carson taking the brunt of a beating meant for his brother, Rick rallied my people and made a speech on war, trying to convince them to band with him…against Negan and his Saviors."

"Wait," Simon sat forward in his chair, his brows lowering, "are you telling me that Alexandria knows about this place?"

"Well, yes." Gregory nodded. He hadn't really considered that being an additional issue.

"For how long?"

"Uh," the traitorous leader muttered.

"For _how long_ , Gregory?" Simon asked again, his patient wearing thin.

"I can't be sure." He shrugged with a nervous smile. "Only a couple of weeks. They met a group of my men who were out scavenging, cornered them and took what they found, then he made my men show him where they were from. He wanted to take us over, but when he realized we worked for you he backed off…until last week."

Simon squinted his eyes at the doughy sack of shit in front of him, not positive if he was lying through his teeth or not. It didn't seem uncharacteristic for Rick to do something like Gregory was claiming, but if this had happened, why not mention it much earlier?

"So, you're telling me," Simon began and stroked his mustache, "that this Rick fellow found your men, somehow demanded and obtained all of their supplies despite not having any weapons, forced them to lead him here, and was stupid enough to try to siege a place he's never stepped foot in, let alone heard of, before? Am I getting that right?"

"Yup," Gregory answered shortly with a curt nod, trying not to sweat.

Simon regarded him silently, his face screwed up in suspicion, before shrugging his shoulders. "Huh, okay. Any of them here now?"

"Hmm?" The leader tilted his head. He considered ratting out Maggie, and her name was on the tip of his tongue, but he shook his head. "Nope. They all left when no one here would join them. I think they realized their mistake when they saw how faithful we are to you."

"Ha!" Simon laughed, his head thrown back as he slapped his knee. "That was good."

Gregory adjusted himself uncomfortably in his seat as Negan's second-hand man wiped tears from his eyes and quieted his laughter, a slight smile keeping his bushy mustache raised.

"But seriously, Gregory, I'll fucking rip your stomach open and hang you with your innards if you're fucking lying to me."

"N-no! I swear!" He raised his hands in surrender. "I only just found out about this, and seeing as I don't know where the Sanctuary is, I couldn't exactly send anyone out to you. I had to wait until you guys came back. That is the truth."

"Alright, dough boy, keep your fucking pants on. I believe you…sort of. We'll get to the bottom of this eventually. In the meantime, thank you for the information. I'm sure Negan will be paying you a friendly visit within the week."

"Oh," Gregory gasped in fright. That was _something else_ he hadn't considered.

"Until our next visit, ta-ta, old man. Don't let anymore strangers come through your walls or we'll send your ass out without a prayer," Simon warned and got up from his chair.

"No, certainly not. It won't happen again."

Simon didn't spare the self-important asshole a departing glance, throwing open the office doors and grabbing the walkie at his hip.

"You five, I need a full circle of the perimeter. Do not let one penny go unturned." Simon commanded a group of men and they moved away quickly. He turned to who remained. "You three, search the house and bring anyone you find into the yard. The rest of you, keep everyone who's gathered out front in line. No one does jack shit until I say so."

"Yes, sir." The Saviors marched to fulfill their orders as Simon brought the walkie up to his mouth.

"This is Simon to headquarters."

"Headquarters to Simon." A voice crackled back.

"Inform our leader that there's a situation at Hilltop. I'll need to meet with him as soon as we get back. Tell him to expect us within the hour. Over."

"Roger that."

Simon clipped the walkie back on his belt and heaved out a sigh.

"What shit are you stirring up now, Prick?"

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Guys, you don't know how many times I facepalmed and laughed at myself while writing this love scene. It seriously took me forever to finish it, and I feel ridiculous, haha. I literally cringe reading it, but maybe it isn't as bad as I think it is... O.O I don't know how some authors can write smut so well while I'm over here clacking on my keyboard like, "His penis went into her vagina." *snort* Well, I'm a bit more eloquent than that, but yeah...**

 **ANYWAY, I'm gonna go bury my face in a pillow until it stops burning.**


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

I woke up anxious, confused, a drop of fear slowly dissipating as sleep drained from me. My heart was pounding inside of my constricted chest, but I felt a deep heat at my back and brawny limbs pressing against mine. A demon slipped from my mind, a spiral of green leaves fading from behind my eyes once I comprehended that I wasn't in a tangled bed of dead pine needles, but I'm in my room, lying with the person I cared about the most, one of his arms hugging me to his bare body. The realization was a soothing balm for the despairing ache inside of me, and I pushed past the memories, the nightmares, that had plagued me incessantly as I adjusted to consciousness.

The blinking alarm clock at my bedside caught my attention. It was still early, the dim light from my lamp somewhat blinding, but I had a while before I needed to get up which I was thankful for. So, I closed my straining eyes and snuggled back into Daryl, his soft breath heating my neck, and I held onto the arm that was wrapped around me. A creeping blush warmed my cheeks as I recalled the night before and how ravenous we'd been with each other. The impatience of wanting to be intimate with him had been tumultuous, and I would have felt embarrassed at how gaudy my actions were had the sex not been so good. We had needed each other and we both took what we wanted greedily, and if I could have my way, Daryl and I wouldn't leave this bed until it was time to abandon this place for good.

I turned over in his arms to bury my face in his neck, inhaling his musky, male scent. It was enough to render me wanting him once more and I draped a leg over his hip as I ran one finger from his jaw to his chest. He stirred and mumbled sleepily, shifting so that his body weight laid me back onto the mattress. I debated on if I should continue to wake him or let him sleep. I could try to reach for dreams again myself, but the thought was unappetizing. They had been terrible memories more than fantastical illusions as of late, and I had no need to return to them immediately. Besides, I felt so alert that I knew it would be impossible to fall back asleep. I guess last night was good for more than one thing, and I didn't want to get up, didn't want to leave Daryl. We'd finally had our moment, and I wanted it to last as long as it could. I wasn't sure how many more of them we would have.

With my mind made up, I relaxed, finding comfort in Daryl's body on mine rather than letting the feeling of claustrophobia take over. I knew I was nothing but safe in this room alone with him, so I let the anxieties subside and slowed my breathing, rubbing one hand along his sturdy arm to help distract myself.

"Mmph," Daryl grunted.

My hand stopped moving as his arm tensed, pulling me closer, and I tried to remain still so as not to disturb him any further. He was already awake, though, and I could feel him growing against my thigh as his fingers combed into my hair. I smiled against his neck, pursing my lips against the smooth skin, and he let out a deep sigh before moving his face to mine.

His lips darted over my mouth, soft and warm, and he settled on top of me, his arms on either side of my head as his hips grazed against mine, the friction soft but tantalizing. A compulsory moan flowed out of my throat and Daryl took the opportunity to stifle it with his tongue as I spread my legs for him.

He slipped over me, his hard length pressing fervently on my throbbing core, and I thrusted upwards encouragingly, wanting him to take me without hesitation, but he was slow and patient this morning. He was savoring me, and I struggled to do the same; to not flip him on his back and take charge like I did the night before.

I shivered, my skin prickling, as his hands moved down my body, massaging me as they went. Daryl released my lips, trailing kisses down my neck and to my breasts. He was gentle with each one, nipping them softly and running his tongue over the shallow bite marks while his hands continued downward to my hips, pinning them gingerly to the bed. Despite being held, it was an effort to remain still as I writhed in anticipation, my breathing hitched and noisy, and I buried my hands in his hair, eager for more.

"Daryl."

His name, a lustful moan on my tongue, escaped me thoughtlessly as every nerve ending in my body was lit on fire, pulsating with desire. I arched up into his tightening grip, the scruff on his chin scratching down my belly as he moved slower still. I knew where he was going and it caused my legs to open wider the closer he got.

The air above me was a whirlpool, sucking away my strength the faster it went, and my senses began to unravel as I focused on only one of them. I inhaled sharply, my teeth biting painfully into my lower lip, as Daryl's hands relocated to my thighs, pushing them up and down to blow softly on my wet heat.

My bound hand clutched the cotton sheets, twisting them in a way that shot stabbing pains through my knuckles, but I persisted with the pressure and ignored the discomfort, needing to feel something besides unfulfilled desire. I whimpered, craving Daryl's touch, and he only teased me a second more before dipping his head and placing his mouth over me.

Involuntarily, I bucked up, and he matched my movements fluidly as he stroked me with his tongue, back and forth. Gasping now, unable to maintain control, I felt myself rushing to the edge of a cliff, ready to dive headfirst into the depths below. My body was shaking, the intensity overwhelming, and when Daryl applied more pressure, drinking the most sensitive part of me, I convulsed into him and let out a string of incoherent moans and mumbles.

As my orgasm subsided, I pulled on Daryl's arms, wanting his lips on mine again. I wanted to feel him inside of me, _needed_ to feel him inside of me, and as I tasted myself in his mouth, I grabbed the stiffness between his legs, running my hand from the head to the base and back up again to direct him into my drenched center.

He pushed into me in one swift movement, a short gasp tumbling from his lips and over mine as he experienced all of me. Hooking one leg across his back, I let him set the pace as I cherished him with kisses, licking and nibbling on the underside of his jaw while dragging my nails down his ribs. The motion of his thrusts, pushing in and pulling out of me fluently, had me tingling all over. It was almost an experience all on its own with how good it was, and I grabbed his skin, my fingers curling into his toned backside as an open invitation for him to move faster.

Getting the hint, Daryl's movements picked up, becoming frenzied the more I encouraged him with my mouth and hands. Soon he was unable to control himself as his hips slammed into mine repeatedly, and he grunted in my ear like a man without restraint. He propped himself on his forearms, allowing him better advantage over me, but they were starting to shake and his skin was turning slick in his effort, and the heat between us was rising, a spark igniting to a raging blaze.

My cry paralleled a curse from Daryl as I tensed and spasmed around him. I was in the middle of falling again when he left me barren and pulsing, aiming to come undone outside of me once more. Through the indulgent fog, I reached for him and pressed him against me, rocking my hips along his length to complete the friction for the both of us. A white pool gathered on my stomach, running down my side, and I watched it blissfully as Daryl closed his eyes, lost.

It was several moments later when we finally drifted back to ourselves, and Daryl pressed chaste lips to my damp forehead. He grabbed the towel we used the night before, cleaning us up before getting back into bed.

"One hell of a way to wake up," he mumbled and buried his face in a pillow.

"A wonderful way." I smiled at him and caressed his cheek.

He smiled back and wrapped me up in his arms before falling asleep once more. But I laid awake, moisture shining in my eyes as I tried to embed every detail of this moment, and those of last night, in my memory.

* * *

We only had two more days left, and I was feeling antsy. It seemed as if the minutes ticked by sluggishly, the days shifting in slow motion, as our forthcoming getaway drew nearer, and the more I thought about it, the more stir-crazy I became. It helped being with Daryl, though. He was more than enough of a distraction, and we couldn't seem to satiate the other. If I wasn't with him, I was thinking about him, and I caught myself more than once remembering intimate details about us; they way his rough hands felt as they passed over my skin or how raw we were with each other, barely containing ourselves. I found it hard to keep my hands and mind away from him; I was nearly drooling just thinking about it.

"Hey," a sly voice said behind my ear.

I jumped, turning to see Sarah smiling from behind my back. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail and it bounced as she came in front of me, looking me square in the face and smirking like she knew a secret.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, smiley pants?"

"Nooothing," I replied, trying to stifle a smile of my own.

"Oh, I think it's something." She said and pushed my shoulder playfully. "You've been grinning ear-to-ear since yesterday morning. I wanna know what about."

"Nothing," I repeated, shrugging my shoulders, but the smile I was trying to hold back broke through. I glanced over at Suzanne to my left, begging for her assistance. She stopped what she was doing and joined us.

"Sarah, leave poor Everly alone. She's had enough to deal with since she's been back and you don't need to add to her troubles."

"Troubles?" Sarah exclaimed and gestured to my flushed face. "She doesn't look troubled, she's fucking glowing!"

Sarah threw down the item in her hand, cocking her head to the side and running her tongue across her teeth as she narrowed suspicious eyes at me. A smirk grew on her face as she looked me up and down and nodded her head.

"I'm gonna give you three seconds to start talking about what's changed or I'm gonna get you in a headlock and squeeze it out of you. I think I already have a good guess, though." She wagged her eyebrows at me and poked my side, causing me to giggle and swat her hand away.

"What are you talking about?" I furrowed my brows as I turned to help them with the supplies. "I'm just in a good mood today. Can people not be in good moods?"

I blushed knowing she wouldn't leave me the option of being subtle, but I feigned ignorance anyway.

"Hell, no!" Sarah's eyes widened. "I know it's been a very shitty week for you, and something definitely happened between the other evening and now to lift your spirits - or your skirt if you know what I'm talking about- and I wanna know the details before I lose my freaking mind!"

"Oh my God, Sarah, she doesn't want to talk about it!" Bobbie threw a hand up before placing it on a jutted hip. She looked at me, shaking her head. "Don't worry about this one, honey. She's been sniffing around all these men, trying to find a new side piece, but clearly, she hasn't found one yet."

"Bobbie, I have found and am currently in possession of plenty of side pieces, so if you'll butt out of our conversation and let the woman speak…" Sarah turned back to me and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me in excitedly. "Spill it!"

"Uh," I stumbled, a smile growing on my face as I searched for appropriate words.

At that, Sarah let me go and clapped her hands once, holding them up in the air as if in praise.

"I knew it! I knew it." She pointed a finger at me. "You got fucking laid!"

"Sarah," Suzanne's voice was a soft admonishment, but I could tell she wanted to hear my story too.

I quirked my lips to cover a smirk, but when that did work, I ended up pressing them together and mumbled, "Maybe…"

"Yes!" Sarah yelled, attracting multiple stares from inside the room.

"You ladies working or gossiping?" Nathan, a fellow Savior, called out. "Everly, quit fucking around and do your job. I'd hate to have to tell the boss."

"Go for it, Nathan," I countered. "I'll indulge him with the tale of the missing peanut butter jars or did you think I didn't notice?"

"Ooooh, busted!" Sarah gave him a one finger salute and he returned it with one of his own.

"Any time, sweetheart." He looked her up and down lingeringly before sauntering away.

"You're going to get us into trouble," Bobbie huffed, bending over a tote at our feet to look busy.

"No, I won't. He's one of my side pieces." Sarah blew her a kiss and Bobbie waved her off. "Also, please don't tell Negan about the peanut butter, Everly. We only took two jars and I honestly don't think he'll want them back..."

"Ugh, God!" Bobbie swore dramatically as she looked up, and I bit back a laugh as Sarah casted a disparaging look her way.

"Ssh!" She hushed her and whipped her ponytail around dramatically, setting batting eyes on me. "Please, do share with us all the skimpy details and be sure to shock us with how big his dick is."

"Sarah!" Suzanne and Bobbie whispered harshly.

"Was it this big?" Sarah held up both hands apart in a large gap, a huge grin on her face. Instantly, she pushed her hands together, closing the gap significantly as disappointment transformed her features. "Or was it this big?"

I covered my eyes with a hand and laughed. "You're fucking ridiculous."

"Answer the question, Everly," she whispered manically.

With an eye roll, I grabbed her hands and set them at the appropriate distance from one another and her eyes rounded, a startled smile appearing on her lips. "Damn! Now you're making me wish I'd been there to witness it!"

"Okay, that's enough," Suzanne said, shooing Sarah. "Leave Everly alone. Her private life isn't any of your business."

"Uh, hey now, if Everly wants to share, that's completely up to her. Everly, tell these old biddies you want to share sexy time details with me." Sarah nodded her head, egging me on to nod back.

"No," I chuckled again, and left to patrol the room.

"Aw, thanks for ruining story time, ladies. I've been looking forward to it for weeks. Now I'm just going to have to use my imagination." Sarah sounded genuinely disappointed.

I turned, and she perked up when I said her name. "The one thing I will say is that he's an amazing lover." I paused as her face fell, clearly not at all satisfied with the tiny tidbit of information. "Also, no one has ever gotten me off as quickly as he has with just his fingers and his tongue."

Before they could see the redness blossoming in my face, I hurried away as Sarah let out another triumphant 'yes', following it closely with a promise that she'd be hearing more. I shook my head, holding back laughter when the sight of Simon lounging by the supply room door drew my attention and the mirth quickly drained.

He had his arms crossed over his chest, one foot hiked over the other and he was gazing at me with a straightforward simper. My throat closed as I realized what he must've heard, but I tried to convince myself that he was too far away to hear and perhaps he was smirking about something or someone else. When he cocked a finger at me was when I really felt heat fanning my face, and I begrudgingly walked over to him, hoping he needed me for nothing important.

He pushed from the wall and straightened as I got near, meeting me as I stopped by the doorway.

"Good morning, sunshine. Don't you look the picture of a well-watered rose?"

"Simon," I greeted him back shortly. "What's up?"

"Just making my rounds, checking on the workings of the compound." He shrugged. "Also, Negan has requested you come to his office immediately. Something about having a surprise for you? I'm not too sure."

"A surprise?" I instantly didn't feel right, and the gleam in Simon's eyes caused the dread to sink further down into my gut.

"Follow me, sugarplum." He gestured to me as he walked out the door, and I did.

 _Don't panic. He hasn't found out anything. There is_ no way _that he knows._

It was a lame attempt to convince myself that I wasn't in the same position from a few months ago when we were first caught trying to escape, but the fear started to bubble within me and it took all the self-control I'd been practicing to not bolt for Daryl.

 _Find out where Dwight is. Keep Simon talking. Maybe I'll get a useful hint._

"So, what's this surprise?" I asked as casually as I could, coming up to Simon's side and looking into his face.

He smiled down at me. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Well, yes. That's why I asked."

"Right," he chuckled. "Well, kiddo, let's just say it's one you'll want to have, but the point of a surprise is for you not to know until it's given to you, and seeing as I'm not the one who's arranged it, you'll have to wait."

"Who's in on it? Just you and Negan? Dwight?" I pressed.

"I guess you could say everyone that you know." He cast me a significant look that I couldn't read, and I became frustrated that he was being so cryptic about it.

I resigned myself to silence, knowing I wasn't going to get anything significant from him, but I wrung the bottom of my shirt in my hand, my bruised one tapping my thigh as we ascended the stairs to Negan's office. When we reached his doors, I took in a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever it was he was going to "surprise" me with, and I followed Simon inside.

Negan glanced over at us, smacking his hand on his desk as he swiveled lazily in his chair.

"Good fucking morning!" He greeted me, and as Simon left to speak with Negan, I saw Daryl already sat in one of the leather chairs.

 _Oh, no._ I froze as Daryl's piercing gaze met mine, and my eyes darted over to Negan and Simon, catching the latter whispering to the other conspiratorially. They both looked at me, matching grins slitting their cheeks, and Negan gestured to the seat by Daryl which I took hesitantly.

With as much confidence as I could muster, I made eye contact with Negan, showing him that I had nothing to hide and nothing to be afraid of. Daryl's hand slipped into mine, and I squeezed it, the aching bones protesting in pain, but I let it course through me, choosing to use it rather than let it use me.

"Well, don't you two look cute as fuck," Negan commented as he strolled in front of us and leaned against his desk, propping Lucille next to his legs. He crossed his arms and shot me a clandestine smirk, and I remembered my first visit in this office with him. I shot him a glare back. "I'm glad I've got the two of you in here together because the surprise I've got planned is really for the both of y'all. I debated on leaving one you behind, buuuut I figured two bodies were better than one, right?"

I quickly glanced at Daryl, but he kept a steady sight on Negan, not once looking away from him. I forced a lump down my throat as my heart throbbed, a stable but forceful rhythm in my ears.

"What's this about?" Daryl asked in a strained, gruff voice.

"This is about setting things right once and for all, Daryl," Negan's tone was condescending. "This is about me finally doing what I should've done three fucking months ago. I'm not a bad man. I'm _truly_ not. Everly can have my fucking back on that one, but for some goddamn reason, I can't shake the fucking stigma that I bash peoples' brains in for no good goddamn reason off my chipped fucking shoulder."

 _Whose fault is that?_ But I keep my mouth shut.

"So, this is what I'm going to do," Negan sighed, standing up straight and pacing around our chairs. "I'm taking you both back to Alexandria."

I immediately perked up, wide eyes finding Daryl's as he finally looked at me. He slowly let go of my hand, shifting around in his chair as he worked to remain stoic, but he was having a tough time of it. I could tell he was, in fact, surprised, and I was, too.

I was hesitant to ask, but I did anyway. I'd rather know the answer now than find out it's a hoax later. "Are you honestly taking us back and leaving us there? For good?"

"Yes. _However_ ," Negan raised one finger in the air as he stopped in front of us, "it all depends on how we're greeted when we get there. You see, I'm willing to work with Rick on whatever bullshit grudge he's been holding against me, and I figured giving two of his people back will be a good move to show him how much I _actually_ do care. And frankly, all of us know this hasn't been working out since day one. I'm hoping this will finally show him what a _good_ guy I am; that I can play nice if he plays nice back."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, I know he's a liar. There is no way in hell he would give up that easily after so long. Something must have happened. He had to have learned some sort of information on Rick that has set whatever Negan has planned in motion, and the initial excitement I felt at going home is rapidly washed away.

Negan smirked again as he watched my reaction and he came up in front of me, placing his hands on either side of the chair as he bent down to whisper in my ear, "You smell my bullshit, don't ya, darlin'?"

I tensed, wracking my brain on how to warn Daryl, but Negan didn't wait for my response as he quickly whispered again, "Don't say a word or I'll cut your hunter boyfriend's throat and make you watch him bleed out."

He swiftly backed away from me and Daryl was already on the edge of his seat, waiting to strike if Negan made a move he didn't approve of. The offending man grabbed his beloved baseball bat, throwing her on his shoulder.

"Damn, lover boy!" The Sanctuary leader exclaimed. "You're fucking ready to go and I didn't even touch her. Simon, you see this shit?"

"All too clearly," Simon responded flippantly, but his hand rested on a gun at his hip.

"Alright, that's enough flirting for one morning. It's time we took a little fieldtrip, buddies!" Negan pointed at Daryl. "Simon, take that one down to the trucks. I'll escort the other. We still have a conversation to finish."

He gave Daryl a pointed look as Simon beckoned to him. Daryl didn't budge from his seat, leveling Negan with a deadly stubborn stare.

"Daryl," Negan warned, and Simon's hand went to his gun again. "She'll be right behind you. I swear."

"It's okay. Just go," I whispered to him, grabbing hold of his hand again.

His blazing blue eyes held mine and he tugged me forward, meeting me half-way across the gap between the chairs to place a blistering kiss on my lips.

"I ain't leavin' you," he argued. "Never again."

"Jesus, stop," Negan interrupted. "You're making me pop a fucking tent in my pants over here."

He regarded us for a minute before eventually relenting, gesturing us both up with a flick of his hand. We stood, keeping our fingers locked together, but Negan grabbed my arm and pulled me roughly away, breaking us apart.

Daryl let out a snarl, quickly sidestepping Simon to get to him, but the leader shoved the wired end of his first lady under Daryl's chin, his face calm but menacing.

"Try something," Negan taunted. "I promise you, you won't like what happens if you do. I've been more than forgiving the past five minutes. Don't. Push. Your luck."

The burly man held his ground, stepping forward an inch to match Negan's threat, and I acted before the situation could advance, placing my hand on their shoulders to push them apart. Negan only smiled, a sign of the calm before the storm, and he lowered Lucille as he held Daryl's gaze.

"Control your man, Everly. He's gone rabid again," Negan spoke, and I resisted the sudden urge to punch him.

"Daryl, I'll walk in front of you. It doesn't matter, just stop. Please," I pleaded with him, and he let out a derisive huff, finally backing away.

"Damn, she has got you pussy whipped." Negan laughed, and he pushed insistently on my shoulder, guiding me with a hand on my arm to the door. He opened it to reveal several men waiting in the hallway. "We'll meet ya out there, man."

Negan gave a swift incline of his head and I heard the crunching sound of a fist hitting skin. I looked over my shoulder, terrified as the men rushed past us into the room, and I saw Daryl clutching his jaw before swinging back at Simon.

"No!" I hollered, struggling against Negan's straining grip, but he dragged me down the hallway, the sound of striking fists and boots a horrifying melody that haunted me the entire way.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Thank you to the guests who reviewed last chapter! Negan is definitely the dude you love to hate but hate to love in this story. And is he falling in love? Hmm, idk. What do you guys think? ;)**

 **Also, shout out to Berrydog and Blue Moon for reviewing a couple of chapters ago! Sometimes I forget to thank reviewers without accounts, but I always appreciate your comments and feedback. :)**


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

"Negan, don't! Please don't hurt him!"

My pleas fell on deaf ears as Negan completely disregarded me, pulling me down the stairs while I cried all the way outside to an expansive caravan of vehicles. He advanced towards a large black truck as I protested and shoved me inside, sliding in after and slamming the truck door; Lucille resting between his knees. Finally, he looked at me, his eyes and mouth forming a disarming glower.

"Please," I muttered, my voice barely passing through my trembling lips.

Negan regarded me, tacit and astute, his gaze drifting over my face before focusing on my eyes. In a tense moment, we stared as I begged silently, willing to abdicate everything so long as Daryl was safe.

"I'll do anything," I broke the silence, and the corner of Negan's mouth lifted slightly.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about the other night?" He asked, ignoring everything that had just happened.

"Negan, please." I was hopeless.

"Answer me," he demanded in a soft but coercive tone.

I closed my eyes, no longer worried about whatever stupid game he had been playing at before. It was as trivial as the world that was now dead, and it was hard to concentrate on anything else but Daryl surrounded by Negan's men, alone.

"I came to-," I choked, my throat suddenly closing. I steadied myself before continuing. "-to ask you why you set Daryl up. Why you tried to push us apart."

"Everly," Negan drawled out my name in reproach, smiling. "You know I would _never_ do something like that."

"You did." My sorrow was transforming into ire. "You can't lie, Negan. I know everything about what you did."

"You do, or you think you do?" He asked, donning a look of short incredulity. "How are you so goddamn sure that Daryl isn't blowing air up your skirt to make _me_ look like the asshole? Maybe he's a fucking liar."

"I just know." Each word was a strain past my clenched teeth.

"For sure." Negan nodded. He squinted and pointed a finger in my face. "I bet you know every single fucking thing that's going on, don't you? You've known from the fucking start what a two-faced piece of shit Rick is because _you_ are a two-faced piece of shit. Just like your bumpkin boyfriend who's getting his ass kicked right now."

"What do you mean?" I shook my head, wanting to know the answer and how it pertained to me and Daryl.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough, sweetheart."

The driver's side door opened and a large Savior climbed in the seat. As he started the truck, I saw the same doors Negan had dragged me through burst open. Simon strutted into the daylight, leading a gang of men who carelessly escorted a beaten, bloody and angrier-than-hell Daryl to a load of vehicles in front of us. Impulsively, I leaned over Negan's lap to reach for the door handle, but he pushed me back into the seat with his forearm. I ripped at his leather sleeve defiantly as he increased his strength, his elbow digging painfully into my chest, and another provoked glare marred his clean-cut features as he warned me.

"Unless you want pretty boy Daryl to be a groaning twat on my fence, I suggest you sit _the fuck_ back and keep your fucking hands to yourself. My temper has worn paper-thin dealing with you assholes and our trip hasn't even started."

I let him go and put my hands in my lap as the tears started again. I looked after Daryl as his eyes searched the yard for me before being roughly shoved into a truck at the beginning of the line. I turned back to Negan, desperate.

"Please, don't hurt-"

"Ssh," Negan hushed as he pushed a gloved finger to my lips. He petted my hair with his other hand and watched the tears roll down my cheeks, his voice full of honey. "Shut up. I can think of a hundred things you can do with that pretty mouth, but begging for Daryl's safety doesn't even make the fucking list. We don't roll out of here until I say so. There is plenty of time to take him out of that truck and tie a chain around his neck."

Deliberately, Negan slid his finger down my lips, gazing at them as I struggled to keep them from quivering. He cupped my chin and thumbed my bottom lip, stretching it as the gloved digit swept across it haltingly.

"You wanna help me put him on a spike out there?"

I shook my head and kept my mouth a straight line as I sniffed back leftover tears.

"I didn't quite catch that, Everly. You see, even a child can learn the difference between when it's appropriate to talk and when it's not. For example, I just asked you a motherfucking question. It's funny how much shit you can talk when I say something you don't like but when I actually ask for your input all I get is a pathetic shake of the head."

"No," I stated, my tone hard despite how fragile I felt.

"That's a good girl." Negan smiled and his fingers on my chin tightened. "You're still my good girl, right?"

I nodded, briefly pondering if I should leave my answer at that as a silent 'fuck you' but quickly threw out the idea. "Yes."

"Sure doesn't fucking seem like it." Negan's eyes danced with mine. "When we reach Alexandria, show them how much of a good girl you can be. Maybe you can set a fucking example for the fuck heads. Otherwise, Lucille will have to do it for you."

With that he let me go and grabbed the barb-wired bat between his legs, stroking it suggestively. I maintained a calm front as a sneer fought just beneath the surface, and Negan laughed when I finally looked away from him. He indicated to the driver to radio that he was ready and too soon we were passing through the Sanctuary gates.

* * *

"You're not going, Maggie," Sasha said as the pregnant woman scampered to strap a gun to her hip.

"Yes, I am. I can't leave you guys to defend yourselves," Maggie argued, finally securing the holster on her belt and sheathing the gun. "Just because I'm pregnant don't mean I'm worthless."

"Maggie, no one is saying that. It would be best for you _and_ the baby if you stayed here, though," Jesus piped in.

Maggie scoffed, annoyed. She had been woken up in the middle of the night when Sasha had come barreling up to the Hilltop gates nearly in a panic. She had explained to her and Jesus that Dwight had shown up at Alexandria no more than an hour earlier to warn them that Negan somehow found out about them staging a revolt. Apparently, the Sanctuary leader was planning a surprise visit to the rebellious town the following day to teach them a lesson in civil obedience, and he was coming armed.

Now that is was morning time, Jesus and Sasha were ready to depart to help Alexandria, but Maggie wasn't willing to let them go alone. She knew her pregnancy was a large downside in going to a potential war-zone, but she couldn't sit back and do nothing. She had to help somehow.

"Paul, no one is going. Let the Alexandrians deal with what they've buried themselves in," Gregory intruded, and Maggie cringed at the sound of his voice. He glanced briefly at Sasha. "You're welcome to stay for a few hours, but then you'll have to leave. I can't have you here if the Saviors show up again. It was close enough that they nearly found Maggie the last time."

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Maggie hissed at him and pulled on a light jacket to cover the piece at her side. "Funny how they were here only the other day and suddenly they're aware of everything we've planned. I wonder how that could have happened."

"What exactly are you implying, Maggie?" Gregory narrowed his eyes at her.

"I think you damn well know." The country beauty turned to face the leader she'd come to resent, ready to give him a what for.

"I would back off if I were you," Gregory warned, taking a step away from her.

"Or you'll what?" Maggie spat, but Jesus stepped between them.

"Could we not?" He asked the both of them, but gave his leader a lingering, scorching look; one that said this subject was far from over.

Maggie addressed Sasha again, breathing through her anger as she continued to glare at Gregory. "Dwight never said how Negan found out?"

"He only said that Negan knows about our relationship with Hilltop, but didn't elaborate on the who's and how's. Then Dwight said he would buy us some time by tearing trees down in the middle of the road and left. He was barely there for twenty minutes before he was gone." Sasha explained, her anxious eyes darting from Maggie to Jesus to Gregory. "I'm scared. I don't wanna lose anybody else."

"I know. It's going to be okay." Maggie softened and took Sasha by the shoulders to hug her to her chest. "Everything will be okay."

She wanted to tell her that no one else would be lost either, but that was one promise Maggie was not willing to make. Especially not to Sasha who shared her grief of losing someone she loved by Negan's bloody hands.

"No, it won't." Sasha pulled away as she tried to maintain her composure. "We've got no guns except for the few from Oceanside, but that isn't enough. We barely have anything to fight with."

Maggie took a step back to run her hands through her short bob. The baby started to kick her side and she rubbed the hard swell of her belly tenderly. "Wasn't that part of Rick's deal with Dwight? To get us weapons?"

"Yes, but he hasn't followed through yet." Sasha shrugged, defeated. "We're out of time."

"Just as well," Gregory commented. "No one will follow you without weapons, and I will not allow a single soul here to be sent to a massacre."

"We might not be." Jesus ignored Gregory. "If Negan comes and finds nothing, then he won't have a reason to punish anyone. He might do some harm based off of whatever information he's gained, but how true can it be if he finds no evidence of it?"

"We are already prepared to fight. Anyone who is capable is armed," Sasha shot down Jesus' idea.

"And Negan knows we're connected. That might be enough for him to destroy all of us anyway," Maggie considered logically and shot daggers at Gregory once more.

Jesus rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "It might be last minute, but we can go to King Ezekiel. He'll help us fight if that's how today ends up, but we need to go now."

"Will that be enough?" Sasha asked.

"Maybe not, but it's something."

"Ha," Gregory let out a derisive scoff, throwing his hand up in the air at the trio before him. "You're all fools."

"We're fools if we keep standing here listening to you," Maggie bounced back at him. "We're leaving."

"Don't bother coming back then!" Gregory hollered at her and Sasha's retreating back. He looked at Jesus incredulously as the young, bearded man stood staring at him in disappointment.

"What has made you so bitter, old man?" He asked before turning his back on him too.

"I mean it, Paul! If you leave, you're leaving for good!"

But his threatening words were no match for the determination of the people they were aimed after, and the study doors clicked shut, leaving him alone.

* * *

"Fuck a whore's ass," Negan cursed as the caravan came to a sudden stop. "What the fuck is wrong now?"

The CB radio mounted on the dashboard crackled just as Negan finished speaking. "We've got some downed trees up ahead. Dwight's crew is here trying to clean them off but they're some big ones. May take a while."

"Fuck me," Negan sighed irately and opened his door. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me along with him as he climbed down, slamming the truck door after us. "You stay by my side."

I marched dutifully next to him, not wanting to spark his anger into something more than it already was. As we walked along the road to view the peculiar barricade of trees, my eyes swept the vicinity of the trucks, looking for Daryl but not finding him. I knew he rode in the first one and as we drew nearer, I finally saw him huddled against the side, an arm holding his waist.

I nearly ran for him but chastely remembered Negan's words. My worried eyes found his and he straightened at the sight of me. His bottom lip was busted and swollen as was his nose. He already had a black eye forming, but I was thankful to not see any more damage. The way he held his stomach, though, made me concerned about possible internal injuries or broken ribs.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, free loader? Get off your busted as hell ass and remove those trees if you want to go home... _Now_." Negan's booming voice had me practically jumping out of my skin as he pointed Lucille at Daryl. "Chop, chop."

Daryl shifted on his feet, the animosity evident in his inability to stand still. The spit from his mouth landed in a bloody blob on the road, and while it was nowhere near Negan, it was a direct insult that unfortunately fell short of its target. With one last look of hate, Daryl turned away and strolled as normally as he could to help the other men with the downed trees as Negan began to chuckle at his limping gait.

"Fucking pussy," Negan remarked and turned to me, a sadistic glimmer in his eyes. "Speaking of fucking pussy, I heard that's what Daryl's been up to with you."

My eyes widened marginally, humiliation starting to burrow into my gut. He had spoken so loudly with everyone around purposely, and I lowered my eyes to avoid anyone's gaze. I honestly didn't care if everyone in the Sanctuary knew about Daryl and me, but what happens in my private life was none of their business, and Negan knew exactly how to pick at me.

"Must've been some damn good pussy to have him snarling like a sick fucking dog. I had to snatch you away from the son of a bitch just to get you alone."

I refused to bring my head up. I didn't even want to look him in the face. I remained silent, studying the gravel at our feet as he continued to pester me in the same brash tone.

"Aw, what is _that_ look for? Are you ashamed?" Negan touched my shoulder, shaking it slightly. "While it's pretty damn gross you let that loser inside of you, it's a nice compliment on your behalf. Daryl has basically hit his all-time high. Question is do we consider it a low for you or charity?"

I jolted away from him and hit the hand that was left suspended in the air in my wake. My throat burned with the harsh words I wanted to yell at him, but Dwight's presence interceded the strained air, putting a stop to my looming mistake.

"Hey, uh," Dwight stopped short at my outburst, eyeing me curiously, "we probably got another hour out here. In the meantime, I've sent some guys ahead to search for ambushes and keep a look out while we finish this up."

"Thanks, Dwight," Negan said, his sight never leaving me. Dwight nodded and turned to go but Negan's voice stopped him. "Do you think it's odd that on the day I'm supposed to make a very important visit to Alexandria there happens to be random ass trees littering the road?"

"Is that a question for me?" Dwight asked unsurely, a small smile on his face but I could sense the tension behind it.

Negan's eyes rolled as he languidly turned to look at the burned man.

"Do you fucking think she would know the answer?" Negan flicked a thumb at me. "She's too busy thinking about getting screwed by fuck-wit over there to form a coherent thought. She won't even talk to me."

The smile drained from Dwight's face as he answered with a no, and I examined the ground again, counting how many rocks were there but listening to the conversation in front of me nonetheless.

"Let's think about this logically, D. There are about three trees down and all of them were conveniently right by the fucking road. Mind you, there was a storm last week, but if you take a moment to look at our _motherfucking surroundings_ ," Negan yelled the last two words, his voice slipping through the trees and bouncing back to us, "you'll see that not another damn thing is disturbed. Kind of makes you wonder a bit, don't it?"

"Yeah, I don't know. It is weird when you think about it," Dwight agreed and my gaze drifted up to notice his fingers tapped on the crossbow in his hands. He was growing nervous. "They probably had weak roots or the soil was eroded by the rain; could have been pushed over by the wind or something. Just our luck, huh?"

"Yeah." Negan nodded and smiled. "Just _our_ luck… Get the fuck out of my sight."

Dwight stepped back as a fleeting sneer sullied his face, but he caught my eye as he walked away. He dipped his head imperceptibly and it was enough to tell me that he was the one behind the downed trees. I grew paranoid that Negan would notice our exchange, so I quickly plastered on a frown, crossed my arms, and diverted my stare.

The rubber tread on Negan's boots sounded on the asphalt as he approached and they entered my line of sight, halting in front of mine. Reluctantly, I peeked up at him and waited for another smart-ass remark to come flying from his mouth. He didn't leave me in suspense for long.

"That girl, Rachel, did you ever learn anything useful from her?"

I shrugged, my silence marking me as insolent. Annoyed by my lack of response, Negan inched up to me and the corners of his mouth turned down as his brows sunk.

"You know, I could offer that girl anything and she would tell me all I needed to know. I'd even let her lick the bottom of my shoe and she'd get down on her knees for it, don't you think?" He paused to let me ponder the implication. "But I gave that job to you so I didn't have to fucking deal with the headache. She's not exactly the buttoned up type. It doesn't take a whole lot to get her talking, so I'm having trouble understanding why you can't do the one fucking thing I asked."

Voices buzzed all around us. The sound of bark being stripped as the trees were dragged off of the road filled my ears. We were making a lot of noise; maybe too much noise. I wondered what would happened if I screamed.

"You don't have an answer?" Negan asked, tilting his head closer. "No lecture about her fragile state?"

I blinked and rolled my glare away from him, finally speaking through tight lips. "I tried. She didn't give me much."

"What did she give you?"

I clenched my jaw in frustration. "Her leader is a woman named Alpha, and they live somewhere near where we were at. Apparently, her group lives like animals, taking what they want when they want it… She said it wasn't the first time those men had raped her. That's all."

"See, that wasn't so fucking hard, now was it? I'm sure I've mentioned it a couple of times already, but compliancy looks good on you." Negan remarked and then moved on. "That shit is fucking fucked up, though. Think Lucille and I should pay the rest of those child rapists a visit?"

"I think you should leave everyone the fuck alone," I snapped. "I think we should go back to the Sanctuary and forget all of this bullshit, whatever the hell it is. If you want to protect Rachel and your people, then start by being a good leader and stop being a sadist. You killing her old group or punishing those who piss you off does nothing because create more problems. If you took a moment to remove your perfectly gelled head out of your ass, you would see that."

A simper lifted Negan's lips broadly as he chuckled.

"Whew, goddamn! Compliant my lily-white ass." He chortled once more. "I can't help but fucking love it when you talk dirty to me. Remind me to _show_ you how much I fucking love it when we get back home. For now, sit your ass in the truck and look pretty. Use your imagination to think about all the things I'm going to do to you to help pass the time."

I scowled, hoping it sent shivers up his spine but knowing they probably went somewhere else less desirable, and turned on my heel to stomp to the truck. His outstretched hand caught my arm, pulling me to back into his chest before I could make it too far.

"I want you to know that I'm really looking forward to spending this day with you." His breath tickled my ear. "You haven't gotten the rest of your surprise yet, and I am _so_ going to enjoy watching your face when I give it to you."

His words cemented my insecurities. He had definitely found something out. Why else would he be taking us to Alexandria? Why else would he be so upset? I wouldn't truly know until he was ready to share, and I had a horrible feeling he would use Lucille to tell me every last detail.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Thank you, Blue Moon! Yes, I enjoyed writing the tension between Negan and Daryl. Both of their jealousies are showing, and it's gonna get crazy real soon! I might actually disappoint a lot of you with what will happen. I've already asked one reader to not hate me, but it's okay if you do. But remember! The dawn always...follows the night...or the night is darkest before the dawn or some profound shit like that... SEE YA!**

 **P.S. I'm seriously so fucking psyched for the next chapter! You guys are gonna straight up hate my guts, haha. Yeeee!**


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

Daryl, Dwight and his men cleared the road off too quickly for my liking. In no time, Negan was back in his seat next to me and we were on our way to Alexandria once again. I wracked my brain for a conclusion on what could be happening, and the only thing I was able to surmise was that we were in deep shit. The truck that we rode in, along with the ones we followed, was armored, and I knew enough about the rest to infer that they carried more than people.

What bothered me most was that Daryl might not have any idea what was happening. I didn't think he was clueless enough to truly believe Negan would let us go out of the blue and for no good reason, but maybe he considered the beating he received a final, parting punishment. I was aware of what it had been, though, and it had nothing to do with Negan's current issue with Alexandria. It was because of me, and that was the main reason I had been so uncertain of finally giving in to my feelings for Daryl. I made him vulnerable which was exactly what I didn't want to happen.

But as these doubts enveloped my mind, a new realization came into place; one that I had been afraid of discovering considering how foreign and objectionable the origins of it had been, and it stemmed from my feelings for Negan. Lately, peculiar emotions regarding my captor had taken hold of me. They were sudden and, if I was being frank with myself, violating. I felt ashamed, unsure of who I might be becoming, but now I felt like I had a good idea of why I had been attaching myself to him, and I couldn't believe it hadn't been obvious the second it first happened. As my relationship with Daryl began decaying, Negan had swooped in and secluded me - even going so far as to trying to befriend me, and it had worked to an extent.

While he had saved my life, he was still a vulture, and I felt stupid for believing he cared for more than himself. I should've known none of what he'd said or done for me had been real. It was a ploy to control me; a way for him to get what he wanted. And if I had been any weaker, I would have given in to him. He played the game well, working on peoples' fragilities and feeding from them. He gained from their loss and he was hoping to do that with mine. Unfortunately for him, though, he had gotten nowhere with me.

I looked over at him, thoroughly hating everything that he was but feeling a tug of sentiment from somewhere within. I couldn't tell what it was or why it was there - if it was weakness or compassion, or something else altogether. Whatever it might be, it was alarming, and I steered to seize it by the throat and drown it. To plunge its rearing head deeper under the hate until it was crushed by it completely.

A flash of hazel latched onto me, catching me off guard, and I looked away quickly, startled by how enveloped I'd been watching him. I was cognizant of the smirk that grew on his face regardless of how intently I now watched the road and trees slip by. The feel of his arm circling behind my shoulders sent them rising to my ears as I tried not to make contact with him, hunching forward in my seat, but his beckoning hand pulled me back, ever the present obtruder.

He yanked me to his side, rubbing the unsought hand up and down my arm casually.

"We're almost there," he whispered to me, but it was an observation I didn't need. I was already painfully aware. "Home sweet home."

"What are you planning, Negan?" I asked one last time, hoping I'd finally receive a straight answer.

"Restitution" was his only reply, and he placed a feathered kiss on my temple.

My heart skipped, an erratic beat to match the vacillating shadows flickering past us. Negan must've felt my body tense because the edged silence was nicked by his low, raspy laugh. He brushed the hair back from my forehead, deflecting the stitches that still held a part of it together, and pulled my head back, pointing to the top of the gates as we arrived at Alexandria.

Rick was there, an assault rifle strapped to his shoulder, along with Carl, Gabriel, and so many others. They stood above the walls with guns in their hands, and the sight of Rick prepared, an impassioned strain in the way his arm reached back to sling the rifle forward, was more of an answer to what was happening here than any words Negan had been generous enough to offer me the last passing hours. I gasped in fright, the reality of the situation we were finally in terribly excessive to me.

"Fat Sloppy Joey," Negan leaned to speak to the driver, "head on out and get our men situated around that gate. Make sure Daryl is in a nice open spot so Rick can see him clearly. Put him on his knees."

"Yes, sir," Joey said and turned off the truck engine before hopping out. I could hear his voice shouting out demands as he stalked to the rest of the vehicles that were parked in front of ours.

"That there," Negan said and trained his index finger on Rick, "is what we're here for. Look at that self-deluded fuck up there thinking he knows shit. _All_ of that is no good to me. It's no fucking good for anybody, so I'm gonna take whatever miniscule amount of power Prick thinks he fucking has and grind it into dust under my goddamn fucking shoe. And _you_ ," he yanked my chin to gaze intently into my eyes, "you're here to help me."

"No," I stated with certainty. I wasn't going to help him do shit.

Negan's disposition turned more caustic, my words causing him to laugh bitterly, but an enraged growl roared out of him as he grabbed the base of my neck and slammed me on my back onto the seat. I was petrified, not sure how to react as I brought my hands up automatically to defend myself, pushing his towering form away from me. I flailed my arms, aiming to hit as much of him as I could when he caught them, restraining me. It was like looking death in the face as I gazed wide-eyed up at him.

"I wanted… _so_ much to believe that you were finally on my side," he said and closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as if in restraint. "After all the bullshit you spun around me, all those empty fucking assurances you made, you almost had me fucking trusting you. _Almost_!"

Negan moved a hand to my hair and twisted the roots painfully as he held my head back. I whimpered at the pain and kicked my feet against his legs, using my now free, but still damaged hand to bat at his shoulder.

"I told you I wasn't weak. Now I'm gonna prove it." He suddenly let me go, sitting up-right in his seat and smoothing back his hair. He flashed a dazzling smile down at me. "Surprise."

I lay on the bench seat, staring at the cabin ceiling in a trance as Negan opened the passenger door and got out. I was shaking, trying to wake myself from this very apparent nightmare, but nothing was changing.

"Come on, Everly. We don't want to keep a dead man waiting."

I covered my face with my hands, stifling the scream that amplified in my chest. A cold sweat broke out on my brow as I tried to think of anything, but I didn't know what to do; didn't know how to salvage this irreversible situation. But then a thought occurred to me.

 _They have guns._

And I sat up to look back at a people I trusted with my life standing atop the watch-post, rifles poised at their shoulders. My wandering scrutiny spotted several others on rooftops and by windows, their guns and weapons at the ready, and hope vibrated through me. Maybe this had been part of the plan and there had been no time for me to prepare. Dwight obviously was in contact with Alexandria. Perhaps this all had been orchestrated, just like the fallen trees.

Negan's impatient hand encompassed my collar and forcibly escorted me out of the truck onto my unstable feet. I stumbled by his side but never fell from his clutches as he walked forward to join the surrounding armed men and women at the outside of Alexandria's gate. Daryl was there, forced on his knees as two Saviors pushed down on his shoulders to hold him in place. He turned his head to see me and struggled to stand as Negan and I came to a halt at the head of the group. Silently, I shook my head, beckoning him to stop, and with much effort, he did.

"Rick!" Negan opened up his free arm to the man, Lucille dangling in his hand. "If it isn't my dear, old pal Rick the stupid fucking Prick who doesn't know shit and may never know shit if he and his people don't drop their fucking weapons and open their motherfucking gate for me."

Rick's fingers tightened on his gun as he gazed down at us, fixing Daryl and me with long, sympathetic stares. He inhaled deeply and squared his shoulders as he looked away from us, ashamed, but in the next second he was dour again, boring Negan with a grievous glare.

Negan shrugged and dropped his arm, a soft chuckle passing through his smiling lips as he realized Rick wasn't going to give in to him so easily. He tugged me malignly into his side, my neck cinched in the crook of his elbow as his hand still crushed the fabric of my shirt.

"Can you believe this dipshit?" He spoke into my hair. "He doesn't give two fucks about either of you. And you're on his fucking side? That really fucking disappoints me, Everly."

I held his forearm, tempted to yank it away from me and scream at Rick to shoot him, but Daryl was still hunched over and bound a few feet behind me. Whatever actions I chose to make, it would directly affect him, too. I couldn't risk the chance of him getting hurt, or worse, killed.

"Alright, Rick!" Negan bellowed, piercing my eardrum. "I'm going to make this real fucking simple for you. You either open your door to me or I take one of these lovely people, Daryl or Everly, and make them into an ornament for it. And I'll have you know that I make dead people look _real_ good on a wall. Maybe when all this dumb shit blows over I can show you mine."

Rick stayed unresponsive and held his ground; yet I could see his finger twitching above the trigger.

"No?" Negan continued. "Are you seriously going to make me blow a hole through your gate just so I can come inside? It seems to me, Rick, that you've outgrown your big boy britches and I'm gonna have to daddy-up on you, you _fucking_ _animal_. I've got to teach you another fucking lesson on who the real boss is here. And all that shit I see, those guns, I want them. I want every last bit of weapons and ammo you managed to scrape up, and then I want one person of your choosing for Lucille."

The lady of topic was thrust into the air and her wires reflected the afternoon light; a glinting omen.

"I'm going to take any damn thing I want and you're going to hand it over to me on a silver fucking platter or I will kill everyone you know and love while you watch. And just in case you're not taking me seriously, I can start with this one right here."

The ground sent wavelengths of pain into my knees and up my thighs as Negan shoved me to the ground. I grimaced at the impact, bracing myself on the hand that gripped the junction of my neck and shoulder fearfully.

"Let her go or I'll blow your fucking head off!" Carl yelled in fervor and aimed his rifle at Negan. I heard the metallic clang of the Saviors' guns as they aimed back.

"Damn, son!" Negan responded joyously. "The one-eyed boy wonder _still_ has got bigger balls than you, Rick, and they only dropped fucking yesterday! Those danglers must be some gigantic brass knockers! I'm surprised he can get around as quickly as he-"

"Negan, let them go," Rick interrupted loudly, bypassing Carl as he blocked him from the Saviors. "Daryl and Everly are not a part of this. They've been your prisoners. Don't punish them for something beyond their control…" he sighed, the previous anger draining from him. "It doesn't have to be this way. We can learn to co-exist but we can't do it when you've got us trapped under your shoe. Look at us. It can't work this way. Just leave Daryl and Everly, you all get back into your trucks, and go home. This all can end peacefully if you let it."

"You know what, Rick? You're abso-fucking-lutely right." Negan snickered. "It _doesn't_ have to be this way, but there you stand with an assault rifle in your hands, and pardon me, but that seems like a mighty fucking loaded way to negotiate peace terms. If it wasn't enough for me to think you had shit for brains after learning about this bullshit you had planned, asking – no – _demanding_ that I hand over two of _my_ people to you and then leaving peacefully is a dead fucking giveaway."

Rick's jaw tightened as he dropped the pardoning act. "Leave them, get in your trucks, and drive back home. Forget we ever existed, and maybe I won't come after you. Maybe…I'll let you live."

"Hot damn!" Negan stomped and I flinched from his boot. "Only a Prick who thinks he knows shit would say something a god-awfully stupid as that."

There was a pause where no one said a word and the only sound was the wind as it stirred through the trees and birds chittered noisily in the distance.

"Okay, Rick. You win this time." Negan sighed as he pulled me to my feet and grabbed hold of my waist. "We'll just mosey on back to our trucks and fuck off back home. Carry on as you were."

Negan twirled Lucille in the air as he turned us around and walked me back towards our truck, his soldiers following. Confused, I gazed at him and saw the signature shit-eating grin on his face, and I desperately looked for Daryl, only relaxing when I saw him being forced forward with the crowd.

"I said leave them!" Rick's voice began to fade as he called after us.

"Can't hear you, Rick!" Negan responded over his shoulder, walking me away faster. "In fact, I don't think you, I, or anyone else will be hearing for a while after this!"

"Run!" A scream of terror hit my ears.

"What-?" I asked, trying to get loose from Negan's hold to look back but he thrust me to the side against a truck, covering my body with his own as an explosion rocked the air.

As time slowed, I lifted my head from Negan's chest and gazed over his shoulder, my hope for a possible victory deflating once and for all. The Saviors were no longer on the road but huddled behind multiple vehicles, Daryl blessedly among them. One man kneeled in the middle of the street further ahead of us, an RPG slung over one shoulder, and the man who'd driven us here, Joey, ran to place another grenade inside of the muzzle as I watched in horror.

"In case you were wondering," Negan breathed heavily in my ear as I watched Alexandria's gate teetered inward, aflame, "that isn't a rocket in my pocket. It's my hard as a fuck cock."

He pulled away and sauntered forward to admire the destruction and shouted, "You want to get fucked again, Rick?"

When no answer came, Negan gave a signal and the whir of a launching warhead obeyed. I braced myself for the impact, covering my ears as I ducked down and quickly shut my eyes. The boom of the second hit wasn't as startling but it left me just as sick. Once the atmosphere calmed, I braved a look at the gates as Saviors rushed through the stunted silence and past the dismantled borders. Soon after, chaos ensued. Gunfire, screams, it all filled my head with an incessant buzzing and no matter how hard I pressed my hands to my ears, I couldn't drown it out.

It wasn't long before I felt Negan's hand on mine, pulling me along with him as we strode toward the burning mess that used to be my home. He ushered me past the mangled gate, gingerly guiding me after him with a soft, easy smile; his hand holding mine possessively. I scanned the town hurriedly, watching the Saviors strip everyone of their weapons and damning everything in this world at the sight of motionless bodies scattered over the yards, but a sick sense of relief coursed through my veins with the less faces I recognized. We trekked over scorched asphalt and grass into a little overgrown lot where Rick and Carl knelt while the rest of who was left huddled together at the edge, guns aimed to their backs or heads as they watched timidly.

Negan let me go at the curb and pulled a gun from his back. In one swift movement, he aimed it at the center of Tobin's forehead and pulled the trigger. The man fell flat, gasps and screams displacing the blast from the gun, and the laughter of the crazed man who pulled the trigger followed suit. A mirthful gaze settled on Rick as the gun was holstered and Lucille took its place.

"It sucks, don't it? When you think you've got your shit squared away, but then here comes the bastard we call life who's been stalking you from the edge of the bush to bite a _nasty_ fucking chunk out of your ass when you least expect it." Negan leaned back in self-satisfaction. "Shit's tough, man. But hey! We're all in this together. _You_ just happen to be the bitch in this scenario while I'm the bastard, and I am _nowhere_ near fucking satisfied. In fact, I am goddamned _starving_."

Negan took a moment to scowl at the broken man at his feet, shifting Lucille in his hand restlessly. He twirled her around, kicking the long green wisps of grass as he paced back and forth silently, the dread building up to a crescendo. Finally, Negan stopped and donned a smirk again, sighing contentedly as he came to a stop in front of the kneeling men.

"Aw shit, Rick. I'm getting too used to seeing you on your knees, and the sight isn't even worth it since you aren't exactly my type...but blow me. I thought we were past all of this shit. I thought I could spare an ounce of trust for you, but you've gone and fucked that right in the ass. Yes, sir. And look at what you're making me have to do _again_." The smile began to drop. "You got all your friends' asses sticking straight up in the air - the ones who are still alive anyway - and I'm right behind them with a barbed, wooden dick in my hands just aching for some action. Was the first time not good enough for you? Do you really want to see more of your people suffer because you don't know how to stop when I'm already elbow-deep down your throat?"

Negan threw his hands up, a look of exasperation overcoming him. I glanced around at all my friends, my family, as they stood there scared, tired, and defeated. It wasn't enough for Negan to have already raided our home and kill more of our people, but he had to run his mouth as a way to rub it in too; the figurative salt in the wound. I ground my teeth together as his torturous monologue continued.

"I tried making this easy for you, Rick. I truly did, but you've tested my limits, and I gotta pull the handbrake real hard on the bullshit now before it goes beyond even _my_ control. You've already lost yours… So, who's it gonna be now?"

My eyes widened at that, my jaw slacking as I came to terms with what he was suggesting. He wasn't done murdering yet.

"Will it be that braniac Slayer fan you've got, Mr. On-the-Spectrum over there?" Negan jabbed Lucille at a tremoring Euegene. "Or what about that large woman you have in charge of the town pantry? Olivia, is it? I know she's gotta be eating you guys out of a case of some canned goods on the daily. I'd be doing you a goddamn favor if I did her. No… How about your woman, Rick? Or your boy? Your baby girl?"

"You wouldn't fucking dare!" Rick raged, spit dribbling from his lips.

Negan laughed, surprised. "Oh, shit, a reaction! Keep those brass balls in your fucking pants, Rick. I didn't ask for any motherfucking outbursts. You know what happens if you can't rein those little girl emotions in…" Lucille danced in the air once more. "Nah, you're right. I wouldn't murder your baby girl. Even some shit's too fucking far for me, but just like last time, I gotta pick someone. So, who's it gonna be, Rick? Who's the lucky guy or gal that I get to pull out of line for some tender loving care with my special lady?"

Negan stroked the end of his bat, a giant grin splitting him from ear-to-ear as his hand worked it up and down lewdly.

Rick swallowed roughly, tears freely rolling down his face as he shook in rage or terror, I couldn't tell. He looked just the same as he did the first night we were cornered by Negan, shell-shocked and terrified. I closed my eyes briefly, hating to see to that look on his face, and glanced at Daryl. He watched silently surrounded by Saviors as his eyes flitted from me to Rick to Negan and back to me again, conflicted.

Negan sniffed loudly, gaining my attention once more, and looked around at the all of the people watching him as he rubbed his chin with a short laugh. He brought Lucille down to whack his gloved hand and the snap of barbed wood hitting leather spiked Rick's focus.

"Don't make me choose for you," Negan said softly. "You're not gonna like who I pick."

"No one else has to die," Rick began to beg.

"Oh, but you see Ricky boy, they sure as fuck do! You don't call the shots on this fucking express train to hell. I do! So! _One last time_!" Negan squatted in front of Rick, matching his eye level. "Who the fuck is it going to be? And you better give me some goddamned names and point the motherfuckers out because pretty soon you won't have any hands either. Yep. I'm gonna fucking take those, too."

"You." Rick shook with pure hatred.

A sneer stained Negan's sharp features, a stagnant but fizzing tension thickening in the air between the two headstrong men. Negan nodded, a short-lived lift of the corner of his mouth the only indication that he'd come to a decision on his own, and abruptly stood up.

"Alright, Rick. You've forced my hand." He yanked Carl by the scruff of his neck and dragged him to the curb near me.

"No!" Rick's yell was immediate, and Simon plus a Savior had to rush him before he could reach his son.

I was feeling faint with how fast blood was coursing through my body as I watched Rick struggle with the men who held him, each of their arms hooked under his to pin them back. The crowd began to sob, and we watched Negan position Lucille over Carl's head that laid flat on the pavement with his eyes squeezed shut.

Negan looked at Rick one last time. "Tonight, when you're lying wide awake and you can't scratch the hairy patch of skin where your balls should be because, dog gonnit, you've got no fucking hands, I want you to think about this and know that it was all because of you."

Lucille reared back past Negan's shoulders, ready to swing down with his heaviness onto Carl's head, and a scream burst forth from my chest without me summoning it.

"Negan!"

It pierced the air, desperate but demanding. He stopped mid-swing, his head turning to me as I stepped forward. "Don't."

"I'm sorry?" Negan asked, baffled and annoyed.

"I'll marry you. I'll do it if no one else dies."

Negan stopped at this, shocked, and I didn't risk a look at Daryl; I was too afraid.

"No!" Rosita yelled as she slipped from the crowd. "Everly, don't be a fucking idiot."

"Hey!" Negan barked and pointed Lucille at her in warning. When she backed up a step he turned and strode up to me. "You better fucking mean this because it won't be superficial, darlin'. I want _all_ of you."

"I said I'll fucking do it!" I screamed at him, beside myself in grief, and Negan scowled.

"Goddammit!" He stomped back over to Carl to slam Lucille down right next to his head.

People cried out, but Negan released a long chuckle from deep in his chest as he straightened back up.

"I _really_ fucking wanted to bash some motherfucking skulls in, but fuck me!" He threw out his arms and gazed gleefully at Daryl. "I think I just got something better."

Daryl surged forward but he was swiftly subdued by multiple men, and I covered my mouth as a sob wracked me. Negan casually combed back his hair with his fingers, watching him fight vainly before turning to Carl who had risen shakily to his knees. "How many pieces are you gonna have left when this is all over, kid?"

"More than you." Carl glared back, and Negan laughed heartily.

"Goddamn, kid. I can't believe I almost just killed you." He glanced over at Daryl again, an easy smile fitting on his face. "Daryl! How ya doin', buddy? Feeling like a worthless sack of shit yet? Hey, I just wanna say, no hard feelings. I know this must be hard for you, and I hate to say that I told you so, but…I guess I get the girl after all, huh?"

The scrambling man growled, rising up and throwing the men off of him in a fit of pure rage. I gasped as he rushed at Negan once more, but several Saviors tackled him back to the ground. Negan graced him with a wink and sauntered over to me, wrapping an arm lovingly around my waist and kissed my lips as he wiped the tears from my cheeks.

Daryl went weak at the sight and the Saviors pinned him down, hopeless.

"Let her go, man," Dwight pleaded, the crossbow aimed at his neck.

"No!" Daryl screamed in despair.

"I'm sorry." I wept for him and squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to erase the image of him crushed and despondent from my memory.

"Everly, you don't-" Rick began, his voice rising above the fray, but Negan swiftly pivoted and pointed Lucille at him.

"Shut up!" He scowled madly as he let me go. "Everly just saved your kid's ass in the eleventh hour. Don't diminish the significance of it by telling her she didn't have to. She's made the decision, _not you_! You should be fucking thanking her while you're on your goddamn knees, groveling like a dog! You," he laughed and jabbed Lucille in the air at him. "Don't think I've forgotten about _you_ , Rick. We're not quite finished here yet. I still gotta collect my debt. Everly was a big chunk of it, but there's still a tiny piece that's missing."

I called after him as he left me to stomp back over to Rick, but like my pleas for Daryl earlier in the day, he ignored me. Negan yanked the downtrodden man up to his feet, and I screamed at him to stop again but to no avail. Instead, he slammed Rick down onto the pavement by his son, kicking out his bracing arms out from under him. The former officer feel face-first to the pavement and Negan pulled his arms out in front his head, palms down.

"Here's me collecting what's left."

Lucille rose in the air, quick as a snake, and struck Rick's left hand once, twice. She rose again and her biting barbs mangled his right hand, leaving his fingers torn and askew. Rick sobbed silently, only crying out once with the first hit, and his breath caught in his throat as he examined the ruin. He tried to get up to his knees, his boots scrambling for purchase, but couldn't, and Negan squatted down by him, leaning on Lucille for support.

"You're a real piece a shit, Rick. A regular turd stuck under my shoe no matter how many fucking times I try to scrape you off in the dirt. This is far from over, but my new fiancée just bought you some time. Take it," Negan sneered, his anger apparent as he held it back by a thread, "and decide how you want to use it because if you keep this motherfucking infantile garbage up, it won't last."

And he stood, his final point a defiling forewarning for the broken man left squirming on the road.

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **I feel like I may have been a little too excited for this chapter in that I set you guys up for something HUGE. I'm not sure what you guys were expecting. It's possible this was along that expectation, but there are times when I tend to overreact and it takes a bit of time for me to cool my jets and reflect (*cough* fake Negan season 8 promo video *cough*)... In other words, I'm a bit self-conscious this didn't live up to the hype now that my initial enthusiasm has diminished, haha. But I am excitable! Whenever I make a Sim character of myself, I choose that as one of my traits, lmao.**

 **Anyway, I wanted to bring up some other points that have been on my mind:**

 **_A)_ Gregory. I've really turned him into a snake but not without cause. He has shown his true colors a bit in season 7. I'm just anteing them up a bit in my story. I bet some new light will be shed on his character this upcoming season, for sure. **

**_B)_ I haven't forgotten about Dr. Carson. I've put him on the back burner for now as I wanted to bring that storyline back in at a later date, but he'll get his reckoning from Negan soon enough (and some other events will unfold from that too).**

 ** _Finally, C)_ I know that I am rather fickle with my writing in that I tend to change my mind often. For example, I originally planned for this to not be a romance, and while it still isn't my focus, I've definitely added that dynamic. Also, I had planned to stick to the tv/comic storyline almost to a T(tee, whatever), but after a while I felt like that was a cop out and rather lazy of me. Sure, I'm still going with that flow, but I've certainly shifted it around a bit and added in my own flavor. If I could rewrite the first two chapters, I would (and really, I can, but it seems too late now).**

 **In conclusion, thanks for sticking with me. I feel like I get so jumbled up with my thought process that my story also reads that way. This is my first fanfic in a looooong time, and I'm glad it has done as well as it has. I owe it all to you guys and my beta. She's really helped me with my writing, and I've learned a lot from her. Your reviews and comments have been helpful as well. Whether you've brought up perspectives I never noticed before or just complimented me in some way, it all lead me in a direction that I feel molded my story into what it is today.**

 **Welp, I think I've rambled enough now. Have a great week, peeps, and stay safe. With the way this world is turning, that's most important to me.**

 **P.S. Blue Moon, holy shit, NEVERLY!? That literally made me laugh out loud with how ridiculous it is (not a very promising match-up when the root word is 'never'.). You're right. It doesn't sound right but it just rolls off the tongue so well, haha. It's like a word that you think is real but it isn't, so you use it until someone stops you and asks you what the hell you're talking about. And you look it up to prove them wrong only to realize, "Shit. I'm a fucking moron." lmao Daryly and Everyl made me giggle, too. If I had to choose one, I'd go with Everyl 'cause it sounds like a name some young, edgy parents would come up with to be original. Kinda like Negan, haha.**

 **Omg, you guys keep me entertained!**


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

The group remained hidden outside of Alexandria's borders; not too close, but near enough to view what was going on, and what they saw was grim. Their arrival was belated; irredeemably so. They had taken too long, spoken too many words, taken too many steps, and now Alexandria's only allies watched as they were killed again and stripped of any weapons or goods they had left.

Maggie stayed crouched low, a hand on her belly protectively as King Ezekiel towered over her, peering through the trees. His soldiers surrounded them in a semi-circle, armed and vigilant, but it seemed as though their presence was not needed. She tore her eyes away from the massacre in front of her, the echoing of the explosions still ringing in her ears, and met Jesus' eyes.

"We have to do something."

Jesus wanted to agree, but he pressed his lips together, his jaw hardening, as he looked back at the destruction in the distance.

"It would be unwise to interfere at this instant," King Ezekiel's voice spoke, low and advising.

"Well, when would be a good time?" Maggie snapped up at him. "When they're all dead?"

"Maggie," Jesus warned softly, "if we go now, we will be slaughtered. They've overpowered them, and we're outnumbered now."

"Bullshit!" Maggie spat angrily. She glared at Alexandria's walls, wishing she could see through them. "We should've come earlier. We should have been here before they were!"

"Alas, we were not, and penitence curses us with a cold hand. That is one of the many unfortunate downsides in all of this," King Ezekiel sighed, gazing down at Maggie. "The Alexandrian's are too vulnerable. Our presence would cause more pandemonium and death. We must retreat and conjure a new strategy. One battle lost does not mean we forfeit the war."

"I agree," Jesus chimed, and Sasha threw her hands up incredulously.

"They are being murdered!"

"And we will be too if we don't keep our tones down." Richard stepped forward as a fellow soldier dispatched a small group of roaming walkers. "We go in now and we're all dead. If we stay here any longer, we're dead. The only option is to go back while we can."

"I'm sorry, Sasha." Jesus placed a hand on her shoulder, but she gently shook it off. He turned to Maggie. "We need to get out of here. Before the Saviors leave and catch us on the road."

Assorted sets of eyes were fixated on the billows of smoke rising from the faraway structures and the bodies that went back and forth, carrying various items to the trucks parked in the street. Maggie dug her nails in the bark of the tree she crotched beside, hating herself for her inability to help. But she couldn't deny the logic to retreat. It was dangerous, and as much as she hated to admit it, Negan had won again.

"Fine." The words burned her throat. "But I'm coming back here tonight."

"Me too," Sashed joined.

"Let us discuss the possibilities beforehand," King Ezekiel requested. "It may still be hazardous-"

"The only possibilities left are we're all exterminated or we win." Sasha cut in. "I need to get in there. I need to see if everyone is okay."

"In the meantime," King Ezekiel redirected his point, "we will confer our next advancement. We would be fools to do otherwise."

 _Fools_ , Maggie thought. Just what Gregory had called them earlier. The realization stung, but she was beginning to feel exactly like one. She stood on shaky legs, the loyal part in her screaming to charge forward, but she put her back to the home she'd been forced to abandon.

"Let's go."

"I'll stay and scout." Jesus offered. "I'll come back when the Saviors leave. If I can, I'll check on the Alexandrians before I head back."

"Thank you, Jesus. That is very noble. Please return to us safely." King Ezekiel nodded to him, and then beckoned to his soldiers. "Make haste. I fear we will be caught on enemy lands if we linger much longer."

His men and women turned, disappearing into the brush. The king glanced back at Maggie and Sasha before moving forward, a final farewell should they choose not to join him. The pregnant widow moved forward, a sour frown on her face, but she stopped when she sensed no one behind her.

"Sasha?" Maggie asked.

"I'm going to stay and watch. I'll come back with Jesus."

"Are you sure?" Jesus asked.

"Always." She replied.

Maggie was mute, wishing she had the option of staying behind, too. But she glanced down and saw the bulge that stretched her shirt. With a sigh, she turned and slid through the trees, blocking out the distant siren call that sang to her.

* * *

The Saviors had taken nearly everything. They took a larger portion of the food, medicinal supplies, clothes, and various other items of their choosing. It was all subjective, taking what suited them and throwing whatever was left into a large fire that occupied the middle of the street. I had pled to Negan to let them be, but a stern glare from my future husband made me ashamedly stand down. Now they had nothing.

"While it's been a lovely visit, my fiancée and I really must get going. We made a _hell_ of a lot of noise fucking up your shit, and I'd rather not stick around to see what comes stumbling up to your blown in fucking door." Negan smiled at the fragile group before him and then came to me, putting an arm around my waist. "I'll be back in a week to check up on you assholes. See how you all are farin' with living off of practically nothing. I have a suspicion making a bonfire with your belongings might slightly inconvenience you, but considering how resourceful Mr. Prick the Rick is, how hard could finding new shit honestly be?"

Negan titled his head as he glanced down at Rick who still writhed on the asphalt. I attempted to sniff back the tears but they had been flowing down my face of their own volition the past hour. My gut felt like a pincushion when Negan faced Daryl who sat bound and guarded on the road.

"Saviors! Dwindle this shit down and get ready to roll. We've outstayed our welcome."

As Negan's soldiers started back through the torn gate, the men who secured Daryl grabbed his arm, pulling him up to his feet, but Negan stopped them with the raise of Lucille.

"Not so fast, Daryl," he smiled slowly. "I told you I was bringing you home, and here you are. I did what I said I was going to do… What I'm having a hard time figuring out is if I should leave your sorry-ass here or drag you back with us. Either way, it won't be easy for you, but what will be more fun for me?"

Daryl had no answer, and the crackling of the fire a few hundred feet away from us kept the air busy, masking the silence. I chanced a look at him, no longer able to keep my gaze at my feet, and I only saw loss. The exact thing I'd been trying to avoid this entire time.

Negan squeezed my side and directed his grin to me. "What do you say, wife-to-be? Do you think Daryl should stay here or come on back with us?"

"Here," I rasped, my throat clamped and sore. My answer was definite. If he came back with us, Negan wouldn't go easy on him. At least here he had a chance.

"Really?" Negan seemed surprised. "Wow. You hear that, Daryl? It's been only an hour and your ex is already over you. I haven't even gone ten inches deep into her yet."

"Fuck you!" Daryl roared and whipped his shoulders back and forth, trying to break free from the men who held him.

"No, Daryl. I believe that's what I've already done to you and pretty soon to my new fiancée." Negan laughed as Daryl continued to rage. He flicked his head to his men, signaling for them to load him up. "Oh, come on, Daryl. I can't leave you behind. You're too fucking entertaining! Hey, how about this. After I get done with this one," he held Lucille to my chest, "I'll give you a visit and we can compare notes. Maybe you can give me a couple of tips on what she likes."

"Stop." It meant to come out as a plea, but I said it with such fervor that it sounded more like a demand.

"Are you talking to me or him?" Negan asked me seriously, his smile gone.

I almost gave him the wrong answer, glaring up at him through the wetness that gathered in my eyes, but I looked away and at Daryl.

"Stop," I said again, but the word lost all of its gusto.

Daryl calmed significantly, but the ire hadn't released him. His feet were still planted solidly on the ground, his arms bulging against the pull of the men who held him, and I repeated myself more firmly, hoping it would spark some sense into him. The Saviors yanked on his arms and finally Daryl gave in.

"I love you." The words left me in a hurry as he passed by, and while I knew it was a mistake I needed for him to know this situation didn't change how I felt for him. His reciprocating words helped assuage the ache in my heart a bit.

Suddenly, Negan gripped my chin, pulling my face toward him as he glared hotly down at me. "I'm going to pretend like that didn't just fucking happen because if it ever does again, I will make sure those will be the last words you ever say to that trailer trash asshole. You're mine now, and you can love whoever the fuck you want. I can't help that, but if you're going to say it you only say it to me. You will be _my_ wife, not his. Do you understand me?"

I gulped and nodded. "Yes."

"Yes what?" Negan demanded.

"Yes, sir," I squeaked.

"Good girl." He smashed his mouth to mine harshly.

"You're a sick fucking psycho!" Rosita yelled.

"Shut up, girl!" A pot-bellied Savior yelled as Negan pulled away from me, his frivolity back.

"Eat a dick!" Rosita balled her fists and Tara grabbed her arms, whispering to her and pulling her back.

"Oh, Rosita," Negan sighed contentedly. "It's always a pleasure."

"Voy a mear en tu tumba, tu jodido coño!"

"What the fuck did she say?" Theodore asked as he strolled up next to us and watched Tara and Eugene pull her behind the group.

"Who the fuck knows but it turns me on every single time she does that." Negan winked at me. "One more thing before we go home."

He let me go and meandered over to Rick who hadn't moved from the spot where he bled on the road. My former leader grunted in pain as Negan bent down next to him and tapped Lucille next to his broken hands causing him to flinch with each rap.

"I've got a little request for you, and before you go and worry yourself, it's a simple one." Negan licked his smiling lips. "I'm gonna leave some of my men here to watch over your dumbass to make sure neither you nor anyone else does anything else fucking irresponsible. If you do, they have my full permission to _take you down_. During their stay, I expect you all to treat them like you would any other asshole you let in your walls: with kindness. You do that and I say you're well on your way to earning back some semblance of faith from me. I might not have to mix your brains in with the mud after all. Think you can handle it?"

"Ye-" Rick struggled to speak, and he shook with the effort to control the pain that was apparent on his face. "Yes."

"Fantastic… Didn't I tell you, Rick? Didn't I say that when I'm at your door you better let me in or I'd knock it down?" He winked and patted the broken man on his sweaty cheek. "See ya next week, Prick. Till then, rest easy."

* * *

It seemed as if we were back at the Sanctuary in no time at all. The sun was lower in the sky and the air was significantly cooler, but the last thing I remember was standing in Alexandria, watching my former home practically crumble down. I wasn't cognizant of the ride back at all, and I only became aware of where I was when Negan tugged on my wrist, pulling me out of the truck after him.

I scanned the trucks for Daryl, hoping I would catch a glimpse of him before I was ushered inside but as Negan goaded me forward I was forced to face the opposite direction. Looking over my shoulder for him would be too obvious, and after the warning I had been given back at Alexandria, I decided not to push what luck I had left.

Negan led me upstairs to his quarters, whistling the entire way while Lucille twirled merrily on his shoulder. My mouth was dry and I felt like I was going to be sick. Anxiety weighed so heavily in me I was surprised I was functioning coherently. The fear of what would happen next, what would happen when I was alone with him, was a nagging worm in my brain. The hole it formed grew bigger and deeper the further up we ascended the stairs, and when he finally reached his landing, my breath disappeared.

"After you, dear." Negan held open the door and gestured for me to go before him.

I cast him a fleeting glance and stepped into the hallway, his fingertips along my spine urging me forward as the door slammed behind us. I was caught in a trance as we ventured down the hall. It was so quiet up here and the atmosphere so placid that I felt out of place. This area wasn't for me; it was never meant for me, yet I was stuck here. This place was my new home.

He stopped at a set of double doors and faced me, a soft smile dimpling his cheeks as he brushed my hair behind my ear.

"Before I open these doors, I want you to know how serious this is. Marrying me isn't a temporary shtick to save Carl's head. You're my wife until I say you aren't. So, if you think you're going to regret this tomorrow morning, I need you to tell me now."

"I won't," I whispered but my heart pounded in my chest.

"You're aware of what being my wife entails… Right?" He asked, his fingers still in my hair. "And Daryl, he won't be an issue going forward?"

"Yes." I swallowed. "And no, he won't."

"That's right. Should I go into detail what will happen if he does become one or is Dwight's fucked-up face enough of a deterrent?"

"He won't be an issue." Anger rose in my chest but I pushed it down.

"Then I think we'll have a _very_ happy marriage."

He slipped his hand back to rest his palm against my cheek, cupping it gently. Slowly, he leaned down, his face growing closer to mine but not quite meeting it. It was a prompt, a test, to see if I'd reciprocate. Putting my emotions to the side, I closed the distance between us and pressed my lips to his. They were soft, firm, and caressing…but they weren't Daryl's.

I pulled away disgusted with the situation I was in. It wasn't right, forcing myself to be with someone I didn't care about and forsaking the love I did have. However, I would do it again given the chance if it granted Carl, or anyone else, their life. Self-sacrifice was payback for losing Mason and abandoning him. I couldn't let that happen to someone else, and while it hurt like a bitch, I was willing to deal with the pain of forfeited happiness.

Not seeming to notice my inner turmoil, or simply not caring, Negan gave me a smile before opening the door into a large and beautifully decorated room. Inside were several women; women who I knew to be my new sister-wives. I spotted Sherry among them and her eyes widened marginally as she caught sight of me.

"Ladies!" Negan beamed. "My beautiful ladies, I have someone special I'd like all of y'all to meet."

Negan glanced back at me still lingering in the hallway and gestured me forward. Sheepishly, I shuffled in and avoided Sherry's gaze, crossing my arms to my chest to feel some sort of comfort.

"This here is Everly." Negan held my shoulders and pressed me to his side. "You might have seen her around here, but you will be seeing her _much_ more often from now on. She's my new fiancée, and I fully expect all of you to treat her with care. Show her the ropes and…make sure she's up to par in what I expect from you all. Everly," he smiled down at me, "don't be shy. Meet my other wives and settle in."

He ushered me forward and I plodded to the center of the room awkwardly. The wives looked me up and down, taking in my appearance and my quick judgments of who I was. Sherry came beside me and took my arm to lead me to a nearby couch which provided little ease despite how plush it was.

"Amber."

A blonde-headed woman jerked up instantly at the sound of Negan calling her name. She seemed timid, scared, and I wondered if that was how I'd look for the rest of my time as his wife too. Hesitantly, she moved over to her husband by the door and he took her to the side, saying words to her that I couldn't hear.

"So, we've got another one, huh?" A redhead asked me teasingly, and I nodded. "I'm Frankie, and this is Tanya."

A short brunette waved to me with a smile. I returned it but I wasn't sure how sincere it was. I gazed around at the other expectant faces, waiting for the next women to introduce herself as I wondered how they could look so serene.

"Could you guys give us a minute?" Sherry asked politely. "We'll do all the introductions later. Let her gather herself a bit."

"Sur-" Frankie began but a loud sobbed stopped us, and we all looked at the source.

In the opposite corner of the room was the blonde woman named Amber bawling as Negan glanced back at us, a look on his face that said, "Yes, I'm an asshole but what can I do?"

"Uh oh," a dark-skinned woman uttered and all the wives looked at one another with grave expressions.

"Frankie," Negan called, his voice impatient, "come comfort Amber while I get Mark up here. As many fucking crocodile tears she's shedding, you'd think she'd care more about our marriage. I guess you just don't know what's important to you until it's gone, right, girls?"

"Yes, Negan," they all chimed, and I disguised my rolling eyes by quickly focusing them on the floor below me.

"Everly." I met Negan's smiling gaze. "You'll take Amber's old room. She should have plenty of shit in there to keep you occupied and dressed until you get your own. You may need to clean out the numerous wine bottles she's got hoarded in there, but save a few for me. I'll be by to see you tonight."

Mutely, I nodded, but a small, stabbing pinch under my arm prompted me to answer him verbally with a yes. Negan, seeming satisfied, left without a word, his merry whistling drifting down the hall.

"Sorry I pinched you, but always speak to him when he speaks to you. It's one of the rules," Sherry apologized.

I huffed and slumped back into the cushions, tired of this bullshit already.

"What the fuck happened?" She asked, turning very serious.

"What do you think? Negan, or rather, Lucille." I answered vaguely, but I wasn't in the mood to be questioned. I was sure she got the gist of what I meant, anyway.

"Come with me." She stood up and grabbed my hand, pulling me up from the couch and to a door off of the side of the room.

Once we were in, she closed it softly and latched the lock, blocking out Amber's pitiful wailing and the hushed murmuring and searching glimpses of the other wives. I sat in a chair and worked to find something good for myself out of this predicament. There were plenty of perks that came with being one of Negan's wives, but since optimism was a virtue I rarely had, it ran through my fingers as I kept falling short of discovering anything rectifiable.

"Tell me what happened," Sherry said as she pulled a chair up beside me.

"He was going to kill Carl." My eyes burned with fresh tears, and I blinked rapidly, taking a moment to calm myself. "I couldn't let him. He already killed so many. I didn't know what else to do."

"It's okay," Sherry soothed as she ran a hand up and down my arm. "Everything will be fine."

I shook my head. "How can you say that?"

"Because I am still here." Sherry's voice had a sharp edge to it, catching me off guard. "We all are. Negan may be a monster, but he's tolerable. I know that isn't what you want to hear. I didn't want to hear it either when I first became one of his wives. Just take one day at a time and play along. It will get easier."

"I don't think I can."

"You _will_ because you're strong. Even if you can find no common ground with him, it doesn't hurt to pretend. Negan thinks he knows everything but he can be just a gullible as another other man."

"Sure," I answered sarcastically, but didn't argue further. "I'm worried about Daryl."

Sherry seemed to think about that, taking her hand from my shoulder and placing it in her lap. She sat back in her chair and the silence between us lengthened before she finally answered.

"You always will, but he needs to go to the back of your mind for now. Don't let him distract you."

"It's not that simple."

"I know, but you have to do it anyway for him and yourself."

"How did you do it?" I asked, hoping she'd catch onto my undefined meaning.

"I found the softer side of him and then it was easier. At first, I shut myself down, but after a while it…grew better." She confessed.

I shook my head again, dismayed. "We were supposed to leave tomorrow."

"And you will leave. Just not tomorrow."

I looked at her then, a sliver of hope coming back to life. "What do you mean?"

"You can still leave, Everly. It can't be tomorrow, but soon. Be patient. We will get you out of here."

"But I thought…" I pondered the woman in front of me, completely confused by who she was and where her loyalty lied.

"I'm helping because I know who Negan is. I'm not blind. A small, twisted part of me does care for him but I know… I know what he is." She took a minute to think about what to say next. "If I went up in flames with him tomorrow, I'd be okay with that. I don't want anyone else to turn out like me, and right now, you are close to doing exactly that, but I _promise_ that you won't be here for long; neither you nor Daryl. Dwight and I will make sure of it."

She took my hands in hers as an intense and desperate stare bored into me. I realized then that she believed we were the solution to defeating the megalomaniac that controlled us all. But why us when we had failed so many times before? When we had lost already?

I dropped my hands from hers, the last tendril of faith burning to ash.

"No," I stated simply. I didn't believe her.

"Everly, do not give up," her voice wilted. "You'll be losing everything if you do."

"I already have!" I yelled at her.

"You haven't! This is _far_ from over."

I watched the passion on her face, saw it light up her eyes, and I felt it gradually hypnotizing me.

"I can never take back the happiness that was stolen from me, but you still have a chance," she tried to convince me. "You will get out of here with Daryl, and if you ever come back here, it won't be as Negan's bitch. By then, he'll be yours."

* * *

 **Edited by lolasskicker.**

 **Hey, guys. Sorry this is late. I've been sick since last week, and I didn't get this to my beta until Monday evening.**

 **Anyway, thanks for all your reviews! I'm going to respond to them soon when I get some energy back. :) And maybe this chapter answered some of your questions, BlueMoon! Lol**

 **Also, the part where Rosita yells at Negan in Spanish is supposed to say, "I'll piss on your grave, you fucking pussy." Haha. Google translate is either a hit or miss, so if anyone knows Spanish and is wondering what the hell I meant to write, that's it.**


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

In my new room, I waited, pacing back and forth in the large, open space. The heels on my feet clacked loudly on the bare floor but softened upon walking along one of the many decorative rugs. Sherry had already helped me tidy up the room earlier and that left me with nothing to keep myself occupied while I bided my time until Negan came knocking. So, I continued my cycle, anticipating the sharp clatter with one footstep and listening for it to disappear with the other. It kept me busy and distracted, abating the nervous energy that ran through my fidgety limbs.

I scanned the room incessantly and found it all too surreal. After being here for so long, I never thought I would wind up as one of Negan's wives; putting on makeup, fixing my hair, wearing a tiny, black fucking dress and heels just to look good for him. It was one of the last things I ever thought I would do, but as the bitch called fate would have it, here I was. And I had no idea where Daryl was at or what he was doing; if he was okay emotionally and physically. I knew he had to be suffering because of me and I hated myself for that, but I had gone with my instincts in the heat of the moment and they weren't always the best. I could only pray that Negan had gone easy on him and that Daryl hadn't made my already fucked decision any worse by resisting.

Disturbed, I stopped in front of the wide, paned window. The sun was already gone and the moon was just beginning to rise above the kaleidoscopic trees. I wrapped my arms around my chest, running my hands from my shoulders to my elbows as I imagined the cool air outside. In a few hours time, I was supposed to be in a truck with a load of strangers marked for my freedom, yet I would miss it. The opportunity to leave this place for good was growing fainter by the second. Pretty soon, fall would hit full force and the days would grow even shorter, colder. While that was good in the sense the walkers would slow down, it made surviving outside for multiple days on end harder, and it would be damn near impossible by the time winter arrived.

But I asked myself what I would rather face: continued torment under Negan as his wife with Daryl's safety in constantly jeopardy or a chance at freedom with death looming around every corner and an enraged Negan at our backs. While the former provided some sense of security, it was circumstantial and illusory. It could change with the blink of an eye or the swing of a bat. And if I ever did anything to screw up, I feared Negan would use the side of Daryl's face as my punishment.

I took in a deep breath, trying vainly to steady my nerves as the image of a glowing iron searing Daryl's handsome cheek plagued me. I shuddered and dug my nails into my biceps as I started to pace again, thinking of anything else but that. When three deliberate knocks rapped on my door, I froze and my mind cleared completely, but in a second I was seeded with a deep foreboding much more intense than anything I'd felt all evening. He was here.

Three more booming knocks splintered the silence, and I broke from the alarmed stupor to stumble forward, reaching a shaking hand for the doorknob.

Negan leaned against the doorframe, his broad form practically expanding across the length of it. His smile was easy, bemused, and it surprisingly relaxed me a fraction, but anxiety was still in control, hindering my thinking.

"Hey, beautiful. You gonna let me in?" Negan asked softly, his grin expanding.

"Uh, ye-yeah," I stammered, and hastily nodded. I stepped back, opening the door wide to allow him in.

He pushed off the frame, watching me closely as he moved into the room. After the door was shut, I took a tiny moment to collect myself before turning around to face him, my hands still on the knob behind my back. Negan laughed.

"Goddamn. Don't look _too_ fucking thrilled to see me, sweetheart. What's got you so wound up?" He went to embrace me but I sidestepped him nervously, grabbing the back of a plush lounge chair to steady myself. The smile on his face intensified, but I had obviously offended him.

"I'm sorry." I apologized, turning red. "I'm very…nervous."

"Clearly," he chuckled and approached me again, gently. He reached out a hand, his fingers grazing the skin on my shoulder, testing my reaction, before setting the full weight of it on me. He squeezed lightly, reassuringly. "Don't be nervous. It's just me. You know me."

 _Yeah, that's the fucking problem_ , I thought, but I nodded instead and tried to plaster on a smile but my lips wouldn't move.

He gazed around the room, turning to look over every corner. "Wowie! Nice job cleaning this shit hole up."

"It wasn't that bad," I offered, relieved at the change of subject, but the truth was that it had been pretty trashed.

It was apparent Amber had been struggling for some time which made me feel sorrier for her, but I also felt it was in her best interest that Negan had let her go. I understood she was upset at losing her secured role, but the numerous empty wine and liquor bottles had been a tale tell sign of a dependency forming. With each bottle I picked up, I felt her sadness, and I hoped that with each one I tossed away she was able to find solace in her new place in the Sanctuary as an ex-wife; possibly with Mark.

"Right." Negan rolled his eyes but it seemed playful. His hand slid from me to unzip his jacket. "Was there anything left over or did the wino suck every bottle she had in here dry?"

"There were a few." I pointed to the kitchen counter opposite the room. "Some rum and a couple of bottles of merlot."

"Damn, no whiskey?" Negan asked as the leather jacket slipped from his arms, and I looked away, unamused.

"I'll open the merlot." I walked past him to the small kitchen and searched for a bottle opener.

"Please do. You need something to take that fucking edge off."

Ignoring him, I found the corkscrew in a drawer and jammed it on the bottle, slamming the drawer shut with my hip and twisting the screw down forcefully. I knew what I needed to take the fucking edge off and it involved more than a glass of wine. I might end up chugging the whole damn thing if I couldn't get a hold of myself, but as I mashed down on the screw and ripped the cork out of the bottle, I felt a tiny bit better.

As I popped the cork off of the opener, I felt Negan move up behind me, the soft cotton of his shirt grazing my back. He moved my hair to the side and over my shoulder, leaving the bare parts of me exposed. I stiffened as he raised his left arm above my head to open a cabinet, and as he leaned into me to reach for two glasses on the top shelf, I braced myself against the counter, the jutted corkscrew tight between my fingers.

"Just tryin' to help," he said cheekily and placed the crystal glasses before me.

"Thanks," I muttered and abandoned the corkscrew to grab the wine bottle, thinking he'd leave me alone long enough to pour us each a glass.

He took hold of it quickly and secured it in a drawer. I briefly closed my eyes, feeling a bit dumb for having been so apparent, and worry started to dig at me when he remained at my back. But I chose to pretend he wasn't there, just like Sherry had told me to, and lifted the bottle to begin pouring. Unexpectedly, a strong hand shot out to encircle my own, and I hissed from the tender pain in my knuckles as he slammed the bottle back down with a thud, red wine sloshing out of the open neck to stain our skin.

I felt his fingers slowly run up my side, the pressure light against the fabric of my dress. They curved around my bare shoulder blade and ascended to the top of my shoulder, a trail of prickled flesh left in their wake, and I suppressed a shiver. He kneaded my tense muscles with firm, considerate attention, trying to relax me, but the discomfort that continued to pulse in my restrained extremity hindered any diversion I might have experienced.

"Negan?" His name was a wondering murmur from my lips, and I felt scared.

"What are you?" His voice was low and close to my ear. I knitted my brows in confusion.

"I-" I thought for a second, trying to come up with the answer he clearly wanted. "I'm yours. I'm your wife."

"Yes, you will be my wife," he corrected. "You haven't _quite_ reached that status yet. We've still got a few steps to take before you get to that point, and I have to admit that your left ring finger is looking pretty bare. I need to amend that before I have the pleasure of calling you missus."

"Okay." I swallowed, knowing it would take more than that to be considered his wife.

"Don't be afraid of me." His tone had changed. It almost sounded pleading as he unclasped his hand from mine and brought my sore appendage to his mouth, kissing it tenderly.

"I'm trying, but it's hard for me," I admitted, hoping the truth would make him consider my new place and how it made me feel more carefully.

He chuckled in my ear, all seriousness gone. "It ain't for me yet, but I'm getting there."

I threw him a quick glare, finally meeting his gaze, and he looked nothing but joyful as he watched me struggle to keep my mouth shut.

"I'm fucking with you." He grinned coyly and eyed my face. "Maybe not in the way I want, but this is still fun nonetheless."

"You're making it extremely difficult to tolerate you right now."

 _Welp, there goes the filter_ , I scolded myself, but Negan seemed to like my retort.

"Oh, sweetheart, I can make _so many_ other aspects of your life highly more difficult, but _right now_ , I'm just enjoying the fact that your face is clearly telling me that you'd rather shove a fucking corkscrew in my throat than be with me but I'm going to change your mind."

"Really? I didn't think I was that transparent," I bit out sarcastically. "Good luck, anyway."

The words had barely rolled off my tongue when Negan whipped me around to face him and shoved me against the counter with his hands on my waist, his body pressed onto mine. I placed my hands behind me as my elbow sent one of the wine glasses clattering on the countertop and it barely avoided rolling over the edge. I blinked up at him, shocked by the sudden outburst, and fear hijacked the irritation I'd felt over his tasteless remarks.

He breathed in deeply, nestling his face close to mine, and his lips found the line of my jaw.

"I don't want to hurt you." His breath ghosted down my neck and the shiver I'd been holding back ran through me.

"But you will if you have to," I finished for him.

He straightened slightly, leaning back so that his face hovered over mine, and his staid, tawny eyes locked me in place.

"I'm not going to beguile you into a false sense of security. I believe it's pretty clear what limitations you have here, and I won't patronize you by explaining what I mean because I know you're fucking smarter than that." His eyes studied mine, his gaze seeming to reach deep down into me and pull out whatever he found. "You propositioned me and I accepted. Like any other man, I want to be with my wife…but I won't make you, and I certainly won't hurt you if you don't want it. _However_ ," he paused briefly, setting me up to follow what he would say next, "I will not hesitate to do whatever I deem necessary if you betray me. And that can range from dismissing you as one of my wives to making you regret you became one."

I was shaking, partly from anger and the other from desperation. He just asserted everything I already knew and was afraid of.

"I asked you if you were going to change your mind and you said no. You said Daryl wouldn't become a problem either, but I sense he is a giant fucking reason you're holding yourself back. Do I really fucking need to sit you down and talk through all of this shit with you?"

"No." My answer was quick and assertive. "I wasn't asking _if_ you would hurt me, I was commenting that you would should you have to, or…"

"Wanted to?" He offered, one eyebrow rising.

I nodded. "Yes."

He laughed lightly and repeated, "I don't want to hurt you, Everly. I never wanted to hurt you."

"But you have," I countered.

"And I will again." He smirked and gazed down between us as his hands tightened on my body to pull me closer. "Convince me that I won't need to."

He tilted his head toward mine in a similar fashion from our earlier kiss, leaving the space open for me to close. He was providing me with a choice; one that would be all too telling of how willing I was going to be throughout the progression of our newfound relationship. I could choose to be stubborn, make my love for Daryl difficult to follow through on my wifely duties, or I could suck it up and do what needed to be done like his five other wives. One option was much better than the other yet wrong in every aspect of self-respect and honesty. But clearly I had to decide which one Negan valued more: my truth or my self-preservation.

I kissed him, moving my aching hand to his firm bicep to show some semblance of enthusiasm. He leaned into me and let wandering hands travel up my back, one snaking into my loose hair to cradle the back of my head and hold me close. His tongue swiped against my lips and I yielded to him, discouraged from refusing lest he were to take any more offense. His motions were smooth and fluid, and the kiss itself was not at all as unpleasant or selfish as I imagined it might be. I found it easy to lose myself, to pretend I was someone else in a different time and in a different place. And I tried futilely not to think of Daryl. I didn't want him to be a part of this moment for fear that when I was finally with him again I would think about this kiss; about being with Negan.

As our touch became more heated, his beard scratched my lips and skin, not unlike the way Daryl's would do, and I whimpered, feeling something akin to relinquished passion. The hand on my back journeyed to the underside of my chest, not quite reaching the delicate bust above as he caressed the skin over my ribs, but when his fingers eventually brushed my breast and began to curl around me I jerked.

Negan broke away and fixed me with a hooded stare. His brow rested against my own as he continued to hold me to him, and his hands remained in the same spots as I took deep breaths to calm my frenzied nerves. The intent that sobered his features began to melt away as his cheeks rose with a wicked smirk.

"That was real fucking nice," he licked his lips and cleared his throat, "but we can continue this later. Today was chock full of bullshit, and while I'd love to unwind by burying myself inside of you, I know you're not ready for it."

Sluggishly, he pulled away and cool air claimed the warmth that he had created. It was refreshing, intense, and I felt the flush in my cheeks and chest heighten. He flashed an impish wink and picked up the tipped glass from the counter to set it upright. He grabbed the wine bottle over my shoulder and stepped next to me, pouring us each a generous amount.

"Relax," he said as he passed me a glass and I took it from him gratefully. "I want more nights like this with you but our marriage has to be mutual. I don't enjoy feeling like you're forcing yourself into this."

 _Well, what the fuck do you think this is?_ I hastily took a sip of my wine to hide my amazement.

"Remember," he brushed my hair back from my face, "I didn't make you do this. You chose it. Today could have ended any other way, but this is what you picked."

"I understand," I whispered through swollen lips and blushed again. I took another sip.

"When you're ready let me know, but don't keep me waiting too long." The glass rose to his mouth and he took a hefty drink. "I'm already _growing_ impatient."

I closed my eyes as they started to roll. "Got it."

"Good girl." He kissed my temple, and I couldn't tell if the shivers that prickled up my spine were from dread or submission.

* * *

Dwight slowed the truck when he saw the ostentatious golden S on the Somerset gates, relieved they were finally here. The wrought iron door swung inward upon their approach and his foot twitched as it hit the accelerator. The van lurched forward as the gravel underneath crunched from the pressure and the dim headlights lit the dusty, windy path as they bumped up to the first set of cottages.

He and his men had driven all day with little breaks, wanting to arrive here as soon as possible so that they could head back home at the earliest convenience. It was Dwight's mission to speak with Kai alone about his conversation with Everly and gauge how full of shit he was. He didn't really have a plan if things here went south, but the men he had brought along were ones he trusted and he was confident their response time was rapid.

The van smoothed out once the tires hit the concrete drive that led up to the hotel. Most of the windows were blacked out, but Dwight saw some lights on in the front hall and several forms silhouetted at the entrance.

"We get in, we get out," Dwight reminded his men through the CB radio they shared. "I talk with Kai, you guys drop off the hostages. Guard the van and truck while I'm gone. If I'm longer than thirty minutes, leave."

"Roger that, D," Ashby's deep voice responded, and Dwight caught the nod from his passenger, Trevor.

"Don't let that juggernaut fuck with you. You know he's got some shit up his sleeve," Trevor advised.

"That fact is already fucking with me," Dwight confessed and pulled to a stop by the front doors. "He better be on our side."

"Yeah, right," Trevor mumbled as both men exited their vehicle.

"Dwight! Good to see ya, buddy!" Kai greeted Negan's lieutenant with a hand shake and hug.

"Kai. Good to see you, too."

"You got my new recruits for me? I've been bouncin' in my fuckin' boots all damn week waitin' for 'em." Kai rubbed his hands together.

"Yeah, man. Got them back there." Dwight flicked his thumb back at the van and signaled for his men to open the doors.

One by one, the prisoners were hustled out and made to form a line in front of Kai and his soldiers. The Somerset leader walked up the row of bodies, looking each person up and down, and he gave a nod of approval once he neared the end.

"They'll do. Some of 'em will need a bit of work, but I ain't complainin' none." Kai stopped in front of a particularly lovely brunette and gave her a large smile. "How you doin', gorgeous?"

Her dark eyes glared at him with disgust, and Dwight cleared his throat as he came up to the bulky man's side.

"You mind if we speak before we head out?"

"What?" Kai looked down at him, distracted. "Oh, right! Yes… Let's talk."

Dwight turned to his men and with a swift incline of his head they pressed the men and women forward for Kai's soldiers to handle. Kai gave the pretty woman a parting glance and a wink before leading his guest inside the hotel to his office.

"What would ya like to discuss, D-man?" Kai reclined in his chair and kicked his feet up on his desk, relaxing.

"I'm sure you have some idea," the scarred lieutenant began.

"Probably," Kai interrupted with a large grin on his face. "This about that little redhead Negan's got? That saucy broad?"

"Yes." Dwight clenched his jaw but his irritation didn't show through his voice.

"Whew, she was smokin'. I had half a mind to try her out, but I had a feelin' the boss was workin' up to somethin' with that one."

"She's his wife now," Dwight affirmed.

"No kiddin'? Smart on her part, sleepin' with the enemy and all." He thought for a second. "You think that little number you just brought in would get with me?"

Kai flicked his feet back and forth contentedly while Dwight shifted in his chair, uncomfortable. It seemed the Somerset leader had no troubles with his life the way it was now, so Dwight had a hard go of understanding why he would even risk losing it.

He shook his head and shrugged. "Probably, but I don't care about that. You already mentioned Everly, and you must realize she told me what happened between you two."

"Yeah, and what about it?" Kai dropped his feet, but remained slouching in his chair.

"Don't you think it's a bit of a low blow to harass young women into telling you secrets?"

Kai scoffed in amusement and chuckled. "Well, let's see that hair on your chest, Dwighty boy. You finally grow ya dick back?"

"Cut the shit, Kai." Dwight demanded, his face stone. "I know what you're trying to pull and I'll admit you chose the right one to prey on, but you've got to be straight with me. Are you serious about helping us or not?"

"Let me answer your fuckin' question with one of my own." Kai pointed at him. "You still alive, ain't ya?"

"So, I can assume that's a yes?"

"If Everly, or whatever the fuck her name is, follows through on our deal then yes, I will fucking help you." The last five words were enunciated condescendingly as Kai cut Dwight with an annoyed glance. "You fuckin' think I casually discuss overthrowing our leader with a complete stranger to get my rocks off?"

"It's wouldn't exactly call it a shock if you did, but I expect you would want something more tangible out of it."

"Like her cunt? Is that what you're sayin'?" Kai sat forward and placed his elbows on the arms of his chair, the same sore look on his face. "You really fuckin' think that low of me?"

Dwight shrugged because the answer was obvious and that was exactly what he was implying.

"If the shoes fits, but Everly didn't divulge too many details about her run in with you," Dwight stared straight at him. "So, that leads me to believe you're either serious about this or I missed some parts of the story."

"I didn't blackmail her into fucking me, ya dick."

"Okay, then I need you to show me that you're with us before we can move forward. Are you willing to do that?"

Kai screwed up his face and brought a hand to his chin. "Gee, I don't know, Dwight. See, the person who I told I would help isn't here and you say she's Negan's wife now. That leads _me_ to believe that some shit didn't go according to plan or you're grasping for fuckin' straws. If I help you now, who's to say that I don't screw shit up for myself?"

"And that's who it's been about this whole time."

"Of fuckin' course it has!" Kai boomed, raising his arms in the air. "You think I give two flyin' fucks about any of you dimwits?"

"No, none of that is fucking news, but I'm pissed that you've involved yourself in this, demanding something that none of us can even fucking give you." Dwight leaned forward as his own voice raised.

Kai laughed in disbelief. "Oh, boy, ya sure do talk a lot of shit for such a small ass bitch. Look at you, mister save-the-fucking-world. Look at your fucked as hell face. You ain't gonna sit there and tell me I'm an asshole for thinkin' of myself. That's all anybody can do with dead shitbags infesting the world, but I'm apparently the only one who's got the nuts to admit it."

"This isn't just about me," Dwight bit out.

"Oh, fuck you!" Kai sat back and threw a hand out at him. "All you can do is deflect because you know it's fuckin' true."

"Our motives are _completely_ different." Dwight leaned on the edge of his chair, his fingertips tapping angrily on Kai's desk. "You want what's best for _you_ and we want what's best for ourselves. You're right. It is about us, but that's the fucking point. We're doing it to make a better life for one another, not just for personal gain."

"And so what? That makes me the bad guy in all of this? I thought we had a common goal here, or are you not into the idea of teamin' up anymore?"

"I know you will play this situation any way that benefits you, Kai. You are as easy to see through as fucking glass, and I'm kicking myself because I do want your help." Dwight ran a hand through his hair and sat back, taking a moment to collect himself. "I want you on our side, but you're hard to trust."

"Why?" Kai asked genuinely, offended.

"Because you're just like him: sneaky, self-serving, and a liar. You'll play anyone to get what you want and when you've got it, you throw them away if they aren't already dead."

Kai snickered. "You don't fuckin' know me."

"I know enough," Dwight sighed, "but I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Prove me wrong, Kai, because if you fuck this up, I will drag you down with all of us."

The robust man considered the slighter one who sat across from him. He was pissed off and wanted nothing more than to break the half-burned asshole's jaw, but he'd wanted to see this deal through. He knew he could save his own ass if Negan became privy to his involvement, and it didn't hurt that Kai was so out of the way that his name might never come up. And he had no qualms with how this whole war might play out. He was set either way, but this adventure would be a lot of fun; mostly if he got what he wanted out of it.

"I'm going to need some reassurance from you before I agree to anything."

"Like what?" Dwight rolled his eyes.

"Like what I've already fuckin' asked for." Kai eyed him for a long moment. "When Negan is gone, I take his place. Till then, I will remain neutral, but I'll give your little allies weapons and ammo. Other than that, I don't want my name in your mouth or anyone else's."

"Of course." Dwight shook his head. "And if Negan calls on you?"

"Then I'll answer," Kai answered honestly. "But I'll let my people choose who they fight for."

"How fucking dignified of you."

"I think so," Kai shrugged and reached a solid hand across his desk, offering his loyalty. "You agree to those terms?"

"I want some of the weapons tonight."

"Fine," Kai huffed, his hand still outstretched. Hesitantly, Dwight took it. "Tell me what else ya need, scarecrow man. I ain't got all fuckin' night."

"Neither do we," Dwight answered, and began to detail exactly what he had planned for the upcoming war.

* * *

 **To be edited at a later date. As life has a funny way of kicking us in the balls/tender lady bits when we least expect it, my beta may not be able to edit all of my chapters quickly enough to have them done by the time I need them due to personal circumstances. If you start seeing a lot of mistakes, that's why, and I do apologize in advance.**

 **How was the premiere last night? I've decided not to watch it until I write all my battle scenes so I have fresh and original ideas. (Well, fresh enough considering I have read the comics.) I just know I'm gonna eventually watch the show and be like, "Why the fuck didn't I think of that!?" Happened quite often last season...**

 **Thanks to my guest reviewers, BlueMoon, and urmessismine ("Oh, no!" indeed! Shit's getting real!). Also, the last chapter has been edited if you would like to go back and reread it without all of the glaring mistakes.**


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

"Have they left yet?" Sasha asked as she tiptoed nervously through fallen leaves. She already knew the answer but didn't want to look. It was a disappointment every time.

"No, and I don't think they're going to leave any time soon," Jesus sighed and he pushed off the tree he leant against and turned to her. "We should head back to the Kingdom before it gets too dark."

Not able to hold herself back any longer, Sasha halted and finally peered through the trees at her distant town. The fires had died down significantly, but a larger one still burned bright by the gate, projecting towering shadows that danced along the darkening, dead neighborhood. A few of the Saviors' trucks were still there while Negan had already gone hours ago. He was keeping tabs on them, making sure there was no retaliation after destroying everything they had and killing more of their people. It was the exact thing they should have expected him to do but wished he hadn't. There was no way to get in now without risking their lives.

"I'm sorry, Sasha," Jesus apologized for the second time that evening and this time she didn't shrug his allaying hand from her shoulder.

She nodded at him, tears forming in her dark eyes as she faced away from her home and followed him out of the woods.

The trek to the Kingdom was long and dangerous, made even more so by the dying sun in the sky. As it passed through steepled trees and the pink sky faded to orange and into hues of deep blue, they used the dusk as cover from the dead, darting past skeletal forms that stank of rotten flesh and moaned lost words.

The world was so quiet in this state. So dark and forgotten that Sasha found herself able to drift away into a different night similar to this one from when she was younger. When everything felt new and she her soul wasn't jaded gold; back to when she was still alive inside and so were all of the people around her.

 _"Sash! It's time…TO GO!" Tyreese yelled up to his little sister and rattled the plastic jack-o-lantern bucket at his side impatiently._

 _"Coming!" Sasha sang as she leaned over the banister, a wide, red-lipped grin on her tiny face._

 _Tyreese heaved out a large breath as his sister waltzed down the stairs in a regal manner, her cheaply made gown swaying around her little, slippered feet._

 _"I'm gonna tell mom you're being a pain," Tyreese warned, but Sasha ignored him as she waved a chaste hand at an imaginary crowd._

 _"Silence while the Queen is descending."_

 _Tyreese folded his arms and tapped his foot while his younger sibling played out her fantasy. When she finally reached the bottom step, she held up the hem of her dress and leapt down with a loud thump by his feet, a giggle bubbling from her lips._

 _"You don't have very good manners for a queen," Tyreese observed._

 _"Then you must not know very many queens because I'm the very definition of one, and my manners are exceptional." She smiled up at him, a mismatched row of baby teeth with those that were beginning to grow back in. Her expression quickly changed from one of pomposity to disgust as she took him in. "And you are a…beastly heathen! A man risen from the dead, you ghoul! You are not fit to take the Queen trick-or-treating!"_

 _Sasha turned her nose up at him with a "hmp" and Tyreese held out his arms to look down at his costume, confused and a bit hurt._

 _"I'm Frankenstein," he stated simply, and Sasha peeked at him from the corner of her eyes._

 _"You were supposed to be Prince Charming." She folded her arms stubbornly._

 _"Well," the big brother began, "I can still be Prince Charming. We'll just tell people that… I'm Prince Charming from a hundred years ago and this is what I look like today."_

 _Sasha dropped her arms and dangled them at her sides as her eyes rolled up in her head._

 _"Then I will be his ghostly queen sister!"_

 _Tyreese started to crack up when his sister raised her hands to form claws and chased him around the house, wailing at him as if she were a banshee. He was out of breath by the time their mother yelled for them to leave, and they both took in tittering gasps as their playtime came to a halt. He took his sister's hand, holding her smaller one safe inside of his and walked her to their waiting mother._

 _"I'm gonna dress up as a Ghost Buster next year," he remarked, and the laughter between them magnified, animating their simple hearts._

The dark hid Sasha's reminiscent smile, and she wiped away a solitary tear as she remembered her fallen brother. Too many people she'd loved were lost to a brutal death, gone from this world and all the terror in it. Truly, she felt they were the lucky ones in a way, but that didn't lessen the sorrow that their absence weighted on her conscience.

"We're almost there." Jesus' voice broke her away from the memories, and she stuck by his side as they came up to the overpass where King Ezekiel's men kept watch.

"Who goes there?" A single voice whispered harshly in the blankness.

"It is I! Jesus, risen from the dead."

The air was still as Sasha looked at her companion, wondering if he had been reading her thoughts this entire time. The hooves of a horse clopped as it approached them, and an unfamiliar face was revealed by the bright reflection of the moon.

"Uuuh, what?" The man asked before he recognized the bearded man in front of him. "Oh! If it isn't our Lord cometh again, or as some know him, Paul Monroe."

"I prefer being recognized as a divine being," Jesus smirked. "May we pass through, Sir Daniel?"

"Posotutely," Daniel replied and Jesus snorted.

"Learn some new words?"

"I'm working on it." Daniel winked and gestured for them to follow him. "After thine noble steed! And watch your step. It has gotten rather dark."

"Posolutely?" Sasha asked as they walked after the large mammal, its tail swishing in the cool air.

Jesus shrugged and whispered, "He's cute, okay?"

And despite how horrible this day had turned out to be, how empty she felt inside, Sasha smiled.

At the gates, they were hastily let through where Daniel gave a lingering farewell to Jesus. Pink as a rose, Jesus led Sasha to King Ezekiel's quarters where his guards alerted him to their presence. They were escorted to an auditorium where the King greeted his guests. It seemed as though he had been there a while, surrounded by his men and Maggie. They all looked haggard, tired from the exertions and tribulations of the day as they slumped in their spots and bags swelled under their eyes.

"Have you brought us good news, Jesus? Fair Sasha?" The King asked. "Are our friends still of this world?"

"We have not, your majesty." Jesus' recent verve had vanished. "Negan has stationed several men in Alexandria. They were still there when we left, and I fear they shall remain there for some time. We were unable to check in on the Alexandrians."

"Gods be damned," King Ezekiel cursed, crushing his hand into a fist, and Maggie looked down at her feet, disappointed and sick. "This will not do. There must be a way to get in there."

"Aside from shimming up a tree and breaking a leg getting over those walls, there isn't much of one," Maggie said.

"Then as much as it pains me, we must surrender the knowledge of our ill-fated friends and instead find a way that serves to rescue them from their woes." The despondent king outstretched a hand to his ever loyal pet, Shiva, and she growled lightly from his side and ducked her large, furry head to his offered caress.

"But how?" Sasha mused hopelessly. "They've taken everything. _Destroyed_ everything. What chance do we have at getting back at them?"

"There has to be a way. Surely you guys have thought of something in the past few hours?" Jesus stroked his beard as he gazed a questioning look at the men and women around him.

Their sheepish eyes and downturned faces told him more than words could, and for the first time since the idea of a revolution began he felt the pang of defeat piercing him in the chest.

"I need to get some sleep," Maggie interrupted the tense quiet and rubbed her eyes.

"Indeed, it would be best for us all if we retired for the evening. Perhaps slumber will free our minds and deliver us refreshed for an extended discussion on this matter," King Ezekiel suggested.

With reluctant agreement, the people of the Kingdom and their refugees filed out of the auditorium. The night was already growing old, but any amount of rest at this point was better than none, and if they were going to sit down and come up with infallible tactics to vanquish the most powerful man they had come across yet, they needed to get some sleep.

It felt like Maggie's head had just hit the pillow when she was startled awake again by strong hands shaking her shoulders. She bolted up, the knife at her waist sliding from its sheath silently as the fuzz cleared from her mind. Her room was still dark and the only source of light was a dim one that leaked in from the hallway that barely illuminated Jesus squatting in front of her. He sat back on his heels as the edge of her knife shined dangerously in front of his nose.

"We have a visitor. Meet me outside."

His words were short, strained, and he stood up abruptly to glide out into the hallway. Maggie let go of the breath that she had been holding and sheathed her knife, swinging her tired, sore feet to the floor and getting dressed. She wondered who could be here, and as she realized how calm Jesus was, she thought it might be someone from Alexandria.

She hurried down the corridor and ran her fingers through her tangled locks. Once outside, she spotted Sasha with Jesus and strode up to join them.

"It'll be a long walk, but we have to meet them outside of the gates. King Ezekiel and his soldiers are waiting for us there," Jesus informed her.

"Who's here?" She asked, looking at Sasha for a hint but the other woman shrugged.

"Dwight." Jesus answered.

Maggie felt shocked, not ready to meet any of Negan's Saviors after what had happened the day before. She wasn't sure if this was a trick or a way for Negan to identify King Ezekiel as a traitor, too, but the three of them started off into the night, passing through the gates and walking along the dark and lonely road at a brisk pace. Maggie thought hard to remember if she had ever met this man named Dwight, but she couldn't place a face with the name. As soon as they came upon the tiny parking lot and joined the crowd of the Kingdom men and women, she stopped in her tracks as she saw a man she did not intend to see. She suddenly remembered him from that night; the night her husband was savagely taken from her and she'd been left broken since. The left side of his face was scarred and his stringy blond hair hung in his face which was sparked with interest as he gazed at her.

"Tell us why you are here, Dwight. We do not enjoy the intruding company of Saviors, especially when it disrupts our slumber," King Ezekiel's baritone voice rang through the crisp air.

"My apologies, King Ezekiel," Dwight said, "but it was highly important that we speak with you as soon as possible."

"I remember you," Maggie cut in, her voice just above a whisper and all eyes darted to her. "You were there that night."

"I remember you, too," Dwight responded, his face solemn. "I'm sorry about your husband…but I'm glad you made it out okay."

Maggie took in a deep breath and wallowed in any words she could have said. She knew this man wasn't the one who murdered Glenn, but he had been there, had partaken in it, and he had helped kidnap her friends. Had she caught on to this being the man Rick was talking about, she might not have been so willing to accept his help. Now she felt a strong spear of distrust jolt through her.

When no other words were spoken and the southern belle didn't steer misgiving eyes from him, Dwight cleared his throat.

"I'm not here you hurt you," he told Maggie and then addressed the king in front of him. "I'm not here to hurt anyone. You see, my men and I have traveled all day to a place where there are a lot of people, a lot of soldiers, and within their compound lies a basement full of heavy artillery." Dwight briefly shifted his gaze to Maggie again and a black woman beside her that he knew to be a part of Rick's group. He looked back at the king. "Seeing as you already have some Alexandrians in your care, I'm going to safely surmise that you are aware of what has happened to them and their plans for a future without Negan… Can I also assume that you are a part of that plan, too?"

"You can assume what you wish," King Ezekiel replied. "I will not confirm nor deny a thing."

"So be it." Dwight nodded but his face was friendly, genuine. "I told Rick that I would do what I could so that he could believe I wanted to help. As it goes, Negan has his men holed up in Alexandria keeping an eye on them so I'm unable to deliver what I've got."

"Is everyone okay?" Sasha blurted out.

Dwight looked at the ground, unable to meet her eyes. "Most, but not everyone."

"What have you got?" Jesus redirected the conversation.

"Guns and ammo from the community I just came from; Somerset. The leader there is willing to aide us, and he gave me weapons as a show of faith." Dwight's soft smile was self-assured but his eyes were dull. "And now I'm passing them off to you to show you mine. Will you accept?"

King Ezekiel stepped forward and Shiva stalked into the moonlight by his side. The Saviors visibly cowered. "Show us these weapons, Dwight, and then we will discuss what to do with them."

* * *

My hands trembled as I brushed back my hair and examined the sutures on my face. They were healing well enough, and I tried my best of avoid them as I applied a few finishing touches before visiting Negan in his room. He had come by the lounge earlier to request my company for the night, and of course, I had to agree. I was nervous that he was going to expect me to have more than dinner with him as I wasn't quite in that state of mind yet, but I was hopeful he would be considerate with me like he had been that first night.

As solicitude preoccupied me, I swept a finger under the mending wound on my cheek and picked at one end. A slender, ruby trail rolled down my skin, and I resisted the sudden urge to dig my finger inside of it and rip out the seams. The desire was extreme, but doing that would be self-destructive and I wasn't that far gone yet. Instead, I lowered my shaking hand to the sink and took in deep breaths.

Calming, I resigned myself to the possibilities of tonight and held in the apprehension, thinking of the leftover bottles of wine in the tiny kitchen. If things went really bad, I could use Amber's method of escape and drink myself into oblivion. It wasn't ideal, but it might help smother the shame. I grabbed a tissue to blot away the blood and then headed to the door, feeling like nothing more than a cheap hooker on her way to meet a client.

The yellow lights buzzed overhead as I walked through the hallway, flashing the last images I had of Daryl in my mind. I was left in the dark on his condition which only exacerbated my worry, and with each day that passed by, my curiosity transformed into true concern. Sherry told me not to ask Negan about him, stating that it would make things worse, but she promised to find out information for me. I had a small suspicion that she already knew something and wouldn't tell me, but I didn't press the issue, and the dread enhanced inside of me, keeping me awake every night.

I came up to Negan's door, the dark wood stained and polished. This part of the factory must've been for the corporate executives and not the blue collared workers once upon a time; everything on this floor was nicely decorated and expensively made. It was no wonder Negan had taken the entire floor for himself, he was that selfish, but I wondered if the empty space could be used for more.

Neutralizing my features, I raised a timid hand and knocked softly with a strong longing that he wouldn't answer. If not, I could slink back to my room unnoticed with the story of saying I had tried, but as the thought entered my mind the door swung open.

"Everly." Negan smiled, his voice velvety as he eyed me.

"Negan." I felt robotic, monotone, as he stepped back to let me in.

He was casually dressed with a dark t-shirt and jeans on sans boots and jacket. It was odd seeing him this way, like I was visiting an acquaintance for the first time at his home, and I felt more off guard than before. I brushed past him, observing the room quietly as he shut the door and came up to my side. Nothing in his room surprised me, from the black leather couches at my right to the four-poster canopy bed that sat to my left. It was modern and sleek; stylish without trying too hard, and it fit Negan perfectly.

"You wanna sit with me?" He asked and held out a hand to the couches by a large, opaque window.

I gave him a nervous glance and edged my way forward, taking the offered seat. He sat on the opposite sofa and leaned on his elbows to stare at me. His scrutinizing eyes roved over my length and I shifted uncomfortably, pressing my knees together and pulling down the short dress I wore. He smirked and sat back, throwing one arm on the back of the couch.

"You look very nice tonight," he complimented.

"Thank you," I muttered and cleared my throat.

I looked down at the food on the coffee table and noticed how grossly garnished it was. A memory of waking up in the cell to a tepid bowl of beef stew threw me back into the past. I had felt guilty for enjoying it when there were plenty of people here who barely had enough points to afford a decent meal. It had been the first one I'd had in a long time and I'd consumed it greedily. But as I gazed at the feast before me now, I felt disgusted.

"Are you hungry?"

"A little," I answered despite that being farthest from the truth.

"We don't have to eat right now." Negan was observant, his sight steady on me. "We can talk instead."

I nodded, relieved that I wouldn't have to force myself to eat among other things tonight.

"What about?" I asked.

Negan shrugged. "Whatever you want… Tell me about your dad. Your real dad."

I cleared my throat again and shifted some more. I didn't know what he wanted me to say.

"Well, what do you want to know? I feel like I covered it all."

Negan's smile grew and I furrowed my brow at him.

"You don't like remembering him?"

"I like remembering him just fine. I'm just not sure what else you would want to know," I answered honestly.

"What is the most vivid memory you have of him?" Negan offered.

"Of him dying."

Negan hesitated at this and then finally looked away.

"Not necessarily of his actual death, mind you," I kept going as I noticed him tense, "but all that led up to it. I remember him before the cancer and all the energy he had. He would take me and Mason wherever we wanted. We always had the most fun with him."

Although faded, I smiled at the memories. Recalling one perfect day he took us on a hike where we learned about different species of birds in our area. The woods had been so calm and serene, the singsong of the various birds a lullaby. But now they were filled with monsters; both dead and alive.

"Then one day he got sick." I paused and frowned, deep in thought. "And he stayed that way. It was like he had a perpetual cold or flu. Some days were worse than others. I never fully understood the gravity of the situation until his clothes hung off of him and his hair started to fall out, and he stopped taking us places because he could barely walk three steps without needing to sit down."

Negan got up from his spot and walked over to me, sinking into the cushion by my side. He pushed the hair off my shoulders and hung his arm on the couch at my back.

"Maybe that wasn't the best topic to start with," he admitted abashedly, and I was slightly shocked.

"No?" I asked, a bit sarcastic. "I thought talking about death was idle chitchat when it came to you. Was that how it was with your wife before she died of cancer, too?"

The small grin on his face remained and his staid eyes bored into mine as he took his time answering me.

"You've got me fucking pegged, don't you, sweetheart?"

"Not quite, but I feel as if I'm getting close." I smiled back, feeling more confident as the minutes ticked by. "What would you say, Negan? Did I hit a sore spot?"

Ignoring my words, his hand came up to grip my chin and pushed my head to the side to study my stitched cheek. "What happened here?"

"Oh, nothing." I covered it with my palm, and Negan retracted his hand, a smile back on his face.

"You're not hurting yourself, are you, Everly?"

"No." I glared at him. "I accidentally scratched it. They're becoming increasingly itchy as they heal."

"I'm sure." He nodded and bit his bottom lip. "You want some champagne?"

 _Ugh_ , I rolled my eyes, annoyed that he had flipped the tables on me, and yes. I very much wanted some fucking champagne.

"Please," I answered politely.

He leaned forward to pour us each a glass, filling them halfway, and I grabbed one off of the table before he had the chance to hand it to me, chugging it in one gulp.

"Hit me." I coughed and held out the glass flute.

Negan chuckled and obliged, pouring it half way again.

"To the top." I lowered my brows at him and he flicked his up as he tipped the bottle to fill my glass.

"You're not going to get shit faced on me are you?" He asked and sat back with his own drink in hand, his arm at my back once more.

"If that's what it takes to get through this night, then yes." I raised my glass to him and swallowed another gulp.

Negan sighed. "Listen, I'm sorry I brought up your dear, old dad, okay? You got a good jab in, too, so don't take it personally. I was just trying to start a conversation with you."

"Fine." I didn't want to argue.

"I got you something." Negan set down his glass and reached inside of his pocket.

I eyed his motions warily and nearly choked on my drink when he pulled out a large diamond ring. He beamed as he watched my reaction.

"I know you're probably the type that would prefer something reserved and small, but I couldn't help myself when I saw this one."

He took my left hand and slid the sparkling ring on my finger. It felt heavy and odd, but I would be lying if I said it wasn't captivating. And he was right. It was way too much, but I couldn't refuse it, and the cool metal scorched my skin. Pretending was starting to feel too real.

"Now I can properly call you my wife," he whispered in my ear and took the glass from my hand.

"Negan," I began, but his mouth was on mine in an instant and I felt panic hit me with a force.

I pushed against his chest. "Don't. Please."

"I know." His lips moved against mine. "I just want to taste you."

His hands curled around my waist as he pulled me into him. My palms were flat on his chest, keeping him at somewhat of a distance but it didn't do much. He kissed me again, this time tenderly. I allowed him, automatically mimicking his flow, and he parted my lips, his tongue seeking mine.

It was okay at first. I was able to go along with the movements just like last time, but as the kiss deepened, he became slightly more aggressive and his hands were bold. I started to panic again, speculating if this was going to go farther than I wanted it to, but he pulled away before I could react. He took his hands off of me to sit back on the couch and run a hand through his hair, gazing out of the window.

"Have dinner with me and then you can get some rest. Seems like you need it." He requested as I adjusted myself, and he looked at me. "But I want to see you again tomorrow night. Will that be okay?"

"Yes," I muttered.

"Good." He let out a long breath and bent over the coffee table, picking up a plate. "When we're done here, send in Frankie."

"Okay." And I closed my eyes, wondering if tomorrow night he wouldn't take no for an answer.

* * *

The hours had all bled together in the cold, damp blindness. There was no reprieve, no belligerent music or torment from his captors; only harsh, heedless silence that left him open to wandering thoughts, and he was suffocating with the misery. He thought of Everly every second and sorrow pierced his chest so deeply that there were times he felt he couldn't breathe. Her face haunted his mind, the image of her a perfect apparition that sometimes he thought she might be there in the dark with him, whispering his name, but every time he opened his eyes he saw nothing and the air was always empty.

She belonged to him.

The recurring awareness caused agony to crash over him and pull him under. Like being captured by the riptide and drug out to sea where he was lost and forgotten, a speck of flesh in a void too vast to escape. He couldn't help but carry the blame for the hole he was in, for Everly giving herself away to keep someone they loved alive. He should have done more, acted before she had, or volunteered his own head for Lucille. He could have done anything but instead he chose to stay contritely quiet to avoid the taking of anyone else's life which was something he hadn't done for Glenn. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried to do the right thing it was always wrong. And he wasn't sure what hurt worse: his loss of Everly or that she was losing herself.

This reflection was a war inside his head, and his throbbing temples were bombs that left him deaf and shell-shocked. He stiff hands buried themselves in his hair, his palms digging into his eyes to press out the pain, but all he could think of was her with someone else, and he felt like he was going to be sick.

He heard several sets of footsteps before they stopped at his door, and when the click of the lock vibrated through the barren room, he slid up the wall with aching, sore muscles. He trained on the door, observing the shadows of two legs behind it and wondered what he would be met with, knowing it would be nothing good. Tediously, the doorknob rattled and the door creaked open as dim light was a blinding sun in his eyes.

"You as snug as a bug in a rug in here, Daryl, or do I need to tuck you in with the heel of my shoe?"

Daryl squinted at the silhouette in the doorway, his hand a defender from the piercing light as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. He didn't have to look the man in the face to know who it was. The deep, cavalier tone dripped with disdain and there was only one man here who spoke with such authority.

Daryl didn't answer, letting his hand drop back down to his side. He figured silence held more opportunity for him in his current position rather than taking the risk of opening his mouth.

"Just thought I'd drop by," Negan shrugged, "check on how my Daryl was doin'. I know my guys did a number on ya, and I'll admit, you look worse for fucking wear, but seeing as you're all brawn and no brains, I didn't think it'd hurt much. Guess I was wrong."

The arrogant bastard sighed with a smile and moved a couple of paces into the room. He scrutinized the beaten man in front of him and chuckled, finding the obstinacy that underlined the heartache amusing.

"Goddamn, if you aren't a hard one to crack," Negan marveled, almost in awe. "I like that about you, Daryl. I fucking admire that… But let me ask you something. Do you want to spend the rest of your days on this earth moping and pining in this disgusting fucking cell, or do you actually want to do some good for the world? For yourself?"

Negan took a moment to let him consider, and he spoke again when the silence remained.

"I'm not here to give you a pep talk. I could honestly give a fuck what you decide to do, but I want to know if you're ready to be a fucking man and deal with the shit that happens in your life like a damn adult, or if you want to continue being a pussy who cries in the dark." Negan shook his head disappointedly. "You have _so_ much potential, but you are holding yourself back over what? Everly?"

Daryl's eyes flared at her name and he twitched involuntarily, but he held back, daring himself not to make a move; to stay in control. A soft chuckle resounded in the room as Negan watched his reaction.

"I get it, man, but I hardly think it's worth putting yourself through this over someone who doesn't want you anymore."

The insult stung. It was a low blow that hit Daryl square in the guts even though he knew it wasn't true. Everly hadn't left him because she wanted to; she left him because it was the only choice she thought she had.

"That ain't fuckin' true," Daryl finally rasped.

"I don't mean that in a disparaging way. Don't mistake me." Negan held a hand to his chest, his eyes apologetic. "It's just the truth of the fucking matter, and right now, it would be best if you got your shit together and moved the fuck on with your life. Staying in this cell, locked inside here day in and day out thinking about a girl you used to fuck is no way to live. That shit will drive you insane. And if you're gonna be one of my men, Daryl, I need you with your head on your shoulders."

The wink Negan gave was teasing; a seal to the double meaning hidden behind his last remark.

"I wouldn't be in here if you hadn't of locked me in," Daryl responded, and as the seconds passed, he felt the anger building up an undeniable energy within him.

"You wouldn't be in here if you hadn't made me lock you in, but that's exactly what I had to do. If you want to point fingers, point them at your-goddamn-self. I don't make decisions for you. I just pay you the consequences." The mirth in Negan's eyes had died but a small smile still stretched his lips. "I mean, consider Dwight. I took a lot away from the asshole but he still works for me. He _has my back_ … He's one of my most trusted men, as far as that goes, but he took it, got on his fucking knees, and paid dearly for all of the shit he pulled like a fucking man… Now, I'm not saying that you're busting your balls on the way back down the totem pole because you didn't get that fucking high to begin with, but I will not allow you to continue to make an ass out of yourself because you don't know how to use self-control. It's just _not_ going to work for me."

"Let Everly go and I'll work for you. I'll do whatever you want, say your fuckin' name and track down all the defects that abandon this shithole so you can burn half their faces off or bash their brains in. I don't fuckin' care." Daryl held back a snarl. "I'll do all of it, just let her go."

Negan laughed. It was a loud guffaw that overfilled the room and pierced Daryl's ears.

"Oh, man. You really think _that_ is gonna work on me?" Negan tilted his head and squinted. "No fucking way, José! I've worked my ass off to condition the two of you for months. I'm certainly not going to just let one of y'all loose to pad the feelings of the other, _especially_ not my new wife. Are you goddamn kidding me?"

"If you fuckin' touch her-"

"Hold on, Daryl. You're getting a bit too ahead of yourself there."

Negan held up a finger. He backed quickly out of the room and spoke lowly with one of his men. When he came back in he was holding a familiar looking camcorder and Daryl's nerves automatically shuffled him a few feet closer to the edge.

"I'm going to make an educated guess and say that you were just about to threaten my life yet again. Am I right?"

Daryl chose silence for a second time and pressed his lips together. He didn't have to speak the truth because they both knew what it was.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's right." Negan nodded and flipped open the camera view screen. He turned it on and pointed the lens at the hardened man before him. "Does this look familiar to you? You ever been recorded before, Daryl?"

At the lack of an answer, Negan flicked impatient eyes up to him and frowned.

"I asked you a fucking ques-"

"No," Daryl spat.

"Okay." A toying smirk crossed the demented leader's features. "I'll pretend to believe you. Well, since you haven't noticed, this baby came from your old stomping grounds. My men came across it the very first time I ever set foot in that place, and I'll be honest, I was hoping for a nasty peep show but all I got was Mountain Man Rick crying about his bullshit feelings. Talk about a boner killer."

Apprehension trickled into fury, and it was merging from a simmer to a boil the longer Daryl listened to Negan speak. He was feeling it eat away at his veins and the edges of his vision were beginning to turn red.

"What kinda shit were you into back in the day, Daryl?" Negan asked. "I'd say by looking at you that it must've been some wild hillbilly porn. Possibly along the lines of a _Deliverance_ remake, but with pigs in place of men. I'd even go as far to say bestiality wasn't totally taboo where you came from, but I digress…" Negan shook the camera at him. "I've got something special on here that I'd like you to watch."

"No," Daryl refused.

"Oh, buddy. Yes, you fucking are, and I would _really_ fucking appreciate it if you'd stop saying that damn word to me. I know your vocabulary is limited, but Jesus Christ! You know more words than that!"

A dark glare cut into Daryl, but he remained rigidly in place against the opposite wall. He wasn't going to watch anything. The implications of what it could be were too real and sickening. As Negan flipped the screen in his direction, Daryl looked away and found a place in the gloom to concentrate on, blocking out everything but that one spot.

"Don't make me get my men in here to hold you down," Negan warned. He pressed play and held it in Daryl's face. " _Watch._ "

Daryl flinched at the first sounds that filtered through the speakers. They bounced off the walls and heightened with each reverberation. He could hear it; a wet sucking sound that was overlapped by deep, lustful moaning, and he knew what was on the screen. He could see it in his mind clearly as his brows knit together in concentration, the shadows giving way to the image that was playing in his head. He wanted to be strong, stay centered on the concrete wall beside him, but a sick curiosity - a desperate need to know _who_ was on that screen - overcame him, and his eyes swept to their corners and dilated.

She was on her knees in front of a black leather couch, her form entirely nude. He only saw the back over her but her red hair was held up by a tanned hand as her head bobbed up and down on his lap; on Negan's. As the video played, Daryl felt every shred of sanity within him disintegrate and his hand rose to crush the debaucher's throat when the woman on the screen was suddenly lifted to her feet. She was roughly laid back on the cushions as Negan climbed on top of her, and she turned her head toward the camera, her eyes closed and mouth agape as he began to fuck her. It wasn't Everly.

Daryl's heart was a rabid animal in a cage, beating itself against his sternum in a frenzied searched for escape. He sucked in a sobbing breath, relief such an immediate current throughout his limbs that he almost sunk to the floor in its intensity. Negan simpered brutishly and kept the camera up to Daryl's face until it ended, enjoying his visage of alleviation combined with revulsion.

"Aw, shucks, Daryl. You didn't think that was someone else did you?" Negan closed the screen and turned off the camera. "That hot piece of ass was one of my wives as I'm sure you've guessed. Not the one you were thinking of, but another. In any case, after our last visit to the big A, I just couldn't help but remember how disappointed I was when I first hit that play button and all I saw was Rick's fucking man bush. So, I've decided that I'm going to make some real use out of it and start a collection. I've had three nights with it so far, so three wives are left... Can you guess who I'm saving for last?"

The snap inside his head was physical. He felt the eruption as it engulfed his system and override his senses, filling him to the brim with fermented rage. Daryl shoved off the wall and slammed his shoulders into Negan's chest, sending them backwards through the cell door. They landed in the hallway, the camera clattering out of Negan's grasp, and Daryl clutched his leather jacket in one hand while the other slammed down on his face.

His fist was an anvil, a soaring stone caught in a violent storm. Daryl got a few punches in before Negan caught his wrist and punched him back. He swayed with the hit and the Saviors crowded around him, yanking him off of their leader whose face was painted with blood.

"Holy shit fuck, you fucking fuck!" Negan roared as he stood up and wiped some of the blood from his mouth. He reared his foot back for a brutal kick to Daryl's ribs, continuing to lay into him violently. Daryl's sore and bruised body writhed with the abuse, but he took it all and welcomed the blackness that began to cover his eyes.

"No, no. I want him awake!" Negan's voice buzzed around his head, but it was muffled, fuzzy. "Take his ass to the basement. We're gonna go see Dr. Carson."

The Saviors who held Daryl lifted him up, and he found his footing as he slowly drifted out of the open mouth of unconsciousness. The headache he already had was magnified and he saw the lights above him pulse with his heartbeat. He squeezed his eyes shut as Negan came before him, trying to escape the reality beyond his personal darkness but couldn't.

"I'm going to show you exactly what you just signed yourself up for." Negan sneered, blood staining his teeth. "You just made your last goddamn mistake."

* * *

 **Bum, bum, buuuum! It'skindofacliffhangeeer!**

 **Well, I lost my beta (super busy schedule) so the rest of this story may be pocketed with fuck-ups. I don't have _too_ many left, but I'll try to catch as many mistakes as I can, so bear with me, people! If something seems totally off, though, don't hesitate to let know. The next few chapters will hopefully answer any questions you guys might have. **

**Also, I've had several requests for a Neverly hook up as well as comments stating that would be the biggest mistake ever. Honestly, I could write it either way, but I'm no longer just writing this story for me; I want to make you guys happy too! So, I _think_ I've come up with a solution? I'm not sure if it will be this upcoming chapter or the next, but I am going to write my story the way I've originally planned it. At the end of one of those chapters, I will include a Neverly scene that you guys can choose to read as a part of the story or not. I'll write it in a way that you can finish the chapter feeling as if nothing happened between them or you can read the add-on where something did happen. I feel as though this will satisfy both sides... I hope. ****Keep in mind that the Neverly scene will not necessarily be part of the story. I want to make that very clear, and I'm sure it'll become more transparent once you read the discussed chapter. That is where I'll leave it up to you guys to choose if it happens or not (kinda like a TellTale game). Does any of that make any sense or is that totally crazy? :/**

 **Thanks BlueMoon and all of my guest reviewers! We should be finding out what's going on in Alexandria in the next chapter.**

 **Edit: New plan! New plan! Scratch all that shit I said above because I've got a new plan! I'll give more details in my notes for Ch. 54. Also, Happy Halloween! :)**


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

Rosita, Eugene and Aaron entered the small town infirmary quietly, filing in one-by-one. They stopped by the door as Aaron closed it gingerly behind them, and the occupants inside turned to look at who had arrived.

Tara gave them a small, weary smile in greeting and joined them by the entrance.

"How's he doing?" Rosita asked her softly.

"Not great, but he's stable," she answered honestly, and the four of them gazed at Rick's sleeping form. The two people who loved him most were hunched over and despondent by his bedside. "We gave him what was left and bandaged him up as best we could, but…he needs to see a real doctor."

"He needs antibiotics, proper settings, splints… He needs someone who knows how to do fucking surgery." Michonne's voice shook as she peered at them over her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Michonne, Carl." Rosita offered her condolences, and Michonne accepted it with a short nod, but Carl didn't seem aware anyone was around him. He sat blankly staring down at his father, his hand on his arm.

"His left hand is broken," Tara spoke, "but it seemed pretty clean from what I felt. The wounds were clear meaning I saw no bone splinters, so that's good. His right hand however…"

"Is a fucking mess, that piece of shit asshole!" Michonne fumed suddenly. "We should've taken the shot while we had the chance. Put that bastard down and we wouldn't be _here_ right now."

"Yeah, we'd all be dead," Carl finally mumbled and no one argued. He was right.

"If he loses his hand-" Michonne choked, holding back the sob that rose in her throat, and Tara shushed her and rubbed her back.

"Maybe you guys should go," Tara said to the three still by the door.

"No," Michonne said. "They can stay. We need to plan."

"That might not be the best idea at the moment, Michonne," Aaron spoke gently, but Michonne glared at him and slowly stood up from her chair.

"That cunt Negan smashed his fucking hands with a wooden baseball bat. If he doesn't lose all mobility in both of them, he still runs the risk of getting an infection and that's the least of our worries!" She was shaking, tears staining her dark cheeks. "He could lose his hands… And if I lose him, if he dies, I don't care who stands in my way, I will get to Negan and I will kill him. Even if that means I die trying…"

"He is not going to die and he will not lose his hands," Tara affirmed and held Michonne's shoulder. "Don't give up on him yet. He will get through this. We _all_ will."

"I haven't given up. I want payback." Passion rose in her dark eyes. "I want to see that motherfucker squirm as I crush his skull under my boot."

"Michonne is right," Rosita interjected. "We need to start planning. I don't care if those Savior pricks are camped at our door."

Aaron spoke up before they got too carried away. "First, we need to let Rick to continue to rest and then rest ourselves. We've been through _too_ much this week, and frankly, I don't want to see anyone else get hurt or murdered in front of me… Maybe I can speak with the Saviors, tell them that Rick needs a doctor."

"Save your breath," Rosita countered rudely. "It's no damn use. It's been three days… They won't let us leave nor will they take us anywhere unless their asshole leader okays it, and we all know that fucking bastard won't grant us the decency."

"Okay, it was just an idea." Aaron sighed in irritation and crossed his arms.

"Everyone…stop fighting," Rick rasped from the bed and all heads turned toward him.

"Rick? Baby?"

Michonne was instantly by the bed, leaning over him to smooth his curly hair back, and Carl had straightened up in his chair, his one eye wide. They both had faint, hopeful smiles on their lips.

"Dad, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Rick muttered and licked his lips. His hands felt like throbbing weights at his sides. "I feel like hell, but I'm okay."

"I'm so sorry." Michonne kissed his forehead and fresh tears shone in her eyes.

"You don't need to be sorry," Rick told her and gazed at the other worried faces in the room. "None of ya do. We were all in it together, but I'm your leader and I made a mistake."

"No, don't say that. You were brave. You were trying to save us," Michonne argued.

"And I failed," Rick asserted. "For that _I am_ sorry. I know we were all takin' a risk, but I thought… I thought we would have a chance, but then he had Daryl and Everly. It all went to shit then."

No one said anything for a time, choosing instead to contemplate the events and how the entire ordeal could have played out differently. Negan had known that they were up to something, had gotten tipped off somehow. Rosita was first to say that it was Dwight, but that hadn't made much sense to Rick. Why would Dwight come to them in the middle of the night to warn them? It had to have been someone or something else, but at the moment that didn't matter. Negan had let them live and given them more time, and most importantly, that had been because of Everly. Now she was stuck paying yet again for another one of their mistakes.

"Has the gate been fixed?" Rick asked, his voice hard. The thought of another walker invasion in the town had him slightly on edge.

"A few men are working on it," Rosita said and glanced at Eugene. "Einstein over here has been coming up with a motor prototype for a self-opening gate."

"Correct. Thought an autonomous gate would be most beneficial to the populace and especially to you, Rick, seeing as…" Eugene went slightly red as he barely stopped himself from saying something insensitive. "Well, I just thought it was a commendable idea."

"Right now, we have what's left of the gate propped up and blocked by one of Negan's trucks. The Saviors were either being generous or they were making doubly sure we couldn't get out," Aaron further explained. "We had a few gangs of walkers roaming outside, but we've managed to dispatch them quickly and quietly. Gabriel and Eric are keeping watch right now."

"That's good." Rick mused for a moment. "In the morning, I want some people to start diggin' a trench around the outside of the gates."

"Like a mote?" Tara asked.

"Exactly," Rick confirmed. "Don't dig too close to the walls. Maybe a good hundred feet out or so, and dig down deep enough so that it'll be hard to climb out. Maybe seven feet."

"Holy shit, Rick. That's going to take a lot of time and effort," Aaron expressed. "What do we tell Negan's men?"

"Tell them it's for the walkers, and if they let anyone, I need a few people out scavenging." Rick paused and looked at Michonne. "How much did they take?"

Michonne was momentarily silent before taking a deep breath. "Almost everything."

Rick forced down the lump of anger in his throat and gazed back at Aaron. "I want you, Rosita, Eric, and anyone else who is willing to go out all day tomorrow. Find as much as you can. I'll figure out who can start the trenches in the morning."

"Rick, you need to rest." Michonne placed a hand on his shoulder and her brows knitted in worry. She didn't want him to make his condition worse.

"And I will. I promise," he soothed, causing her to let out a soft sigh. "Carl, I want you to be my voice until I'm back on my feet. Only for a couple of days."

"Okay, dad. I'll do whatever I can. Just tell me what to do." Carl eagerly accepted the responsibility.

"I know you will, son." Pride filled his chest as he observed the man he was turning into, but instantly there was a wired bat dangling over his head. It swung through the air in a violent arc and Rick nearly cried out before it vanished in thin air; the wire and wood never making contact with Carl's precious head.

"Dad?"

Rick closed his eyes and cleared his throat, wiping the hallucination from his mind. When he opened his eyes again, he addressed everyone in the room. "What happened earlier today wasn't the end. We are nowhere near finished with this… We will keep fighting Negan, and I'm not going to let him smashin' my hands stop me from ending it. We keep on until it's done. Can we agree to that?"

"Rick…" Tara began and looked to Michonne.

"What?" Rick asked, his eyes roving back and forth between everyone.

"You've been asleep for three days," Michonne whispered.

"What?" Rick asked unsteadily. "It's been three days?"

"Yes, but your body needed the rest and we've cleaned up the town. You just need to concentrate on healing and we'll take care of everything else," Tara assured him.

Rick thought once more and gazed down at his wrapped hands. He wanted to lift them, and he tried to wiggle his fingers, but couldn't; it was too painful.

"Do what I've asked. That's the start of our new plan. In the meantime, don't worry about me. I will heal." Rick turned to Michonne and looked at her pointedly. "Okay?"

She nodded, but concern still soured her beautiful features. To her he seemed troubled and his eyes looked glossed over. He wasn't himself.

"I'll be fine," he stressed. "I'm _always_ fine."

"I know." Michonne smiled and kissed him. She didn't want to say that she was worried about the day when he wouldn't be.

* * *

They dragged Daryl down to the basement, his feet limp and losing their balance at times. Every instance that he slipped or couldn't hold himself up, he would be angrily yanked to his feet and a kidney-bruising punch would be delivered to his side. Daryl wasn't actively trying to make their job any harder. In all actuality, he would walk on his own if he could, but the continued abuse did him no favors and the world around him still swam around his head.

"Right here," Negan barked, the camcorder dangling in his hand.

The men pulled Daryl to a stop in front of a set of doors that read, "Restricted area. Authorized personnel only." Daryl hadn't had the capacity to feel anxious before. The pain that filled him from every end of his body was a decent distraction, but he began having flashbacks to all the shit he'd lived through thus far in the apocalypse. There was no need to go beyond those doors to know that he would find nothing good.

Negan strolled in front of him, his nose and lips red. He hadn't been able to wipe all the blood off. "You ever wonder what this factory manufactured?"

It was a question that had crossed his mind since living here, but it had never been important enough to find an answer to satisfy his curiosity. Negan waited, but Daryl's only comment was a blank stare. He wanted the suspense to build, to make Negan frustrated with his lack of a response. It was the only power he still had.

Negan scoffed a short chuckle and tongued his split lip. "It was mostly rail and roadway equipment. A lot of heavy duty shit, highway signs, support beams, and whatnot, but apparently the assholes that used to run this place made more than roadway decorations. They also facilitated "discrete" products as well. Top notch shit compared to what I bet your snaggletooth neighbor probably made in his trailer next door. You catching on yet or did I scramble your fucking brains too hard?"

Daryl's upper lip curled, and he swallowed his spit instead of projecting it into the face of the asshole before him.

"Yeah, I guess that question was a bit optimistic, huh? Let me dumb it down for you. This place wasn't just a factory. It was also a plant, meaning it manufactured chemicals that chemists mixed together, did all their science shit, and ta-da! They made fucking drugs. I'm not exactly sure what kind, but I wouldn't be surprised if some of the shit you used to shoot up your arms came from here. To get to the point, there were a lot of leftover ingredients and equipment when we moved in, and between you and me, these people were into some kinky fucking shit…" Negan paused and watched Daryl with a sinister smile. "Now, Dr. Carson was an ambitious man and genuinely had kindness in his heart. Unfortunately, that kindness became a bit goddamned warped when he saw what this place had to offer. He and Dr. Avery made what's behind these doors. I consider it Virginia's own Area 51. Let's me show you around."

With a jaunty whistle, Negan pivoted and flung open the push-in doors. The Saviors gripping his arms hustled him into the space beyond, and instantly Daryl heard the moaning from the dying and the dead. The interior of the lab looked almost like a hospital, and the adjacent rooms were small and isolated with doors that locked; like a cell. They each had a window so that the subjects inside could be viewed and monitored from a safe distance, and it almost felt like he was at a zoo.

As he was pressed forward, Daryl couldn't help looking back and forth between each room they passed. Inside each one, he witnessed writhing bodies restrained on gurneys, people moaning with sickness or in the throes of dying. Some were unconscious, but the sweat that gleaned on their skin and their shivering limbs indicated that they were still alive. For each and every person he saw, something didn't look quite right about them. Not that dying ever looked right because all the deaths he had ever witnessed never had. But this was different.

"What the hell is this?" Daryl asked furiously.

Negan glanced sparingly over his shoulder and his puckered lips smirked as he continued with his whistling tune. As they passed a room, a disheveled woman flung herself at the glass, her bloody fingertips leaving countless red streaks on the window. She bit at the air as her pus yellow eyes watched them glide past and screamed at their fleeting backs.

"What is this fuckin' place?" Daryl yelled, terror finally settling in the bottom of his gut.

Negan stopped and turned to face him. "Now, Daryl. No one ever got any answers by asking rudely."

The palm of Negan's hand struck Daryl's cheek hard, causing him to bite his lip. He breathed through his nose, pushing back the pain.

"That's for nearly breaking my fucking camera." Negan shoved it in his face. "Also, this is Dr. Carson's room."

Negan smiled broadly as a Savior stepped forward to unlock a door to the left. Daryl was forced inside and to the end of a gurney where Emmett Carson lied strapped down. He was sunken in and foaming at the mouth as he whispered quiet delusions. His skin was pallor grey and green, and he had several bite marks all over his arms. They were festering, oozing, and the doctor's cataract eyes wandered aimlessly as he moaned in agony.

Daryl wanted to ask what was wrong with him – what they had done to him – but deductive reasoning had already led him to the answer. He eyed a few small, red puncture wounds on his neck.

"They were lookin' for a way to cure the infection, weren't they?" Daryl guessed, and Negan whistled in wide-eyed astonishment.

"Holy shit! That's one of the smartest things I've ever heard you say! Color me fucking surprised."

The doctor let out a particularly loud groan and shifted restlessly against his restraints. When he got nowhere, his pained voice died down and he relaxed his limbs.

"He was looking for a cure alright, but the dumb shit didn't quite get it in time, did he?" Negan laughed as he watched the man who had a figurative hand raised to knock on death's door. "He and Dr. Avery were working with other groups of doctors at different communities to find an antidote for people who have been bitten. As you can clearly fucking see, they haven't found anything that works other than slowing down the infection so that the patient is in limbo for a few extra, miserable days. Usually the people who participate in this study are voluntary. Dr. Carson himself chose this over Lucille or burning alive. Guess the asshole thought he might be an exception since he was the mastermind behind it."

"They told me. They told me. They told me."

Carson started to whisper to himself somewhat intelligibly. Daryl understood what he was referring to; the walkers that had supposedly spoken to him, saying that he was going to rot. Despite the horror that surrounded him, he felt sympathy for the doctor. He was a monster that had tried to do something good even if the ethics had been kicked out of the door from the start. He had killed while trying to save, but Daryl also thought this was a fitting end for him, and perhaps the doctor had chosen it on purpose.

"Are you just gonna let him go on like that?" Daryl questioned.

"Sure as fuck am," Negan answered quickly. "And I'll let you do it, too."

The condemned hunter looked at the answering man and saw that the camera was poised in the air again to catch his reaction.

" _Hooo_ , boy, you didn't like that revelation, did you? Why do you think I brought you down here? To scare you straight? I could just give you the iron like Dwighty boy, but I think I need to take it a step farther than that."

"I ain't a bitch," Daryl spat, but he felt a weakness in his knees. "You can do whatever you want to me. It won't make a damn difference in the end."

"You see, Daryl, that's where you're fucking wrong. It makes all the damn difference, and I'll make a bitch out of you yet. You've already got your toes in the fucking little bitch door. You just wait," Negan pointed the camcorder at his face, "and see."

With a slight inclination of his head, the Saviors heeded their leader's signal and started to drag Daryl out of the room. He resisted, and rage built in him at the thought of dying strapped to a gurney while never having the chance to see Everly's lovely face one last time.

"I'll take the iron!" Daryl screamed. It wasn't a plea for his life, but for a shot at fulfilling his last hope.

"Oh, damn, Daryl. I knew you'd break eventually, but I didn't expect you to bust down the door of Little Bitch City this soon. We might as well call you the mayor."

Negan laughed as Daryl struggled, and his body ached with each twist and pull. The men started to overpower him, began dragging him into a room where he saw a stained and bloody bed waiting for him when the lab doors at the end of the hall burst open and a large man ran through them.

"Boss! Dwight is back and something's gone wrong."

"What?" Negan's smile died as his annoyance blossomed. "What the fuck do you mean, Fat Joey?"

"I don't know," Fat Joey wheezed. "Dwight and Trevor are back but no one else. He's saying they're all dead. _Everyone_."

"What the holy fucking shit?" Negan turned to the men who fought with Daryl. "Stop! Take him back to his fucking cell. I've got to deal with this bullshit first. Where the fuck is he?"

Daryl instantly relaxed at hearing the command. He wouldn't become a lab rat just yet, but the news that something had gone wrong with Dwight had a pit forming in his stomach. If he angered Negan or lost his position, Everly's chance of getting out of here would be gone.

"At your office waiting for you, sir," Fat Joey stammered, and Negan stormed past him, shoving the large man out of his way.

The Saviors who held Daryl roughly righted him to his feet and walked forward, hauling him back up stairs to his small cell where they opened the door and shoved him inside.

"You get one more night, dead man. Enjoy it while it lasts."

And the door slammed shut. Daryl took a deep breath, feeling the rough texture of the concrete walls under his fingertips, and he closed his eyes. He was alive; left to agonize and wait in the silent darkness once more.

* * *

"What the fuck, Dwight?" Negan growled as he came up to him by his office door, running a wet rag over his bloodied face.

"I don't know. It was a total shit show. Trevor and I barely made it out of there." Dwight lied, ignoring the obvious bruises forming on his leader's face, and he suppressed a smirk, trying his damnedest to appear distressed.

 _Too bad it wasn't me_ , he thought, wondering who had hit him.

"What happened?" Negan flicked him a quick glare before going through his office door. Dwight followed him inside.

"Pat grossly underestimated how many of the dead there were. There were hundreds of them; easily five. They had nearly taken over the entire outpost when we arrived, and they surrounded us." Dwight sighed, not too dramatically, and ran a bloodied and shaking hand through his hair. "Trevor and I fought a good few of them off, but the rest of my crew didn't make it inside. There were only two men left alive and one had already been bitten. We waited them out a bit, hoping they'd get bored, but a horde that large… They were persistent as shit. Eventually, we offed the guy who'd been bitten and made a dash for the truck. The last guy at the outpost was supposed to make a diversion and then we'd plow through the crowd to pick him up, but… They got to him first. We just barely made it out of there by the skin of our teeth."

Negan was sitting in his office chair and a hand had covered his sore mouth as he listened to Dwight's account. It was a detailed story, and he had no reason to not believe it. It was highly plausible, but he also questioned the lack of warning from the outpost itself. Not to mention how considerably lucky Dwight and Trevor had been to be the only survivors. He glared out the window, the moon high in the sky, and slammed a hand down on his desk.

"How many men is that?" He asked.

"Fifteen."

"Goddamn it!" Negan stood up and walked around his desk. "How come no one fucking radioed in?"

"I'm not sure." Dwight shrugged and he felt his palms become moist. "I think that might have been the last thing on their minds once they were surrounded. There were so many of them. A few had gotten inside, surprised them."

"Fuck," Negan remarked. "Why the hell did you go in?"

"What else should I have done?"

"Fucking left it alone and made me aware of the situation as soon as you fucking saw it!"

"I did what I thought was best."

"Well, your judgment has apparently gone to fucking shit," Negan insulted him. "Thanks to you, I'm down fifteen good men instead of ten."

"Listen," Dwight suggested, hoping Negan would calm down and take the bait, "I can get rid of them. I just need more men. We'll go about it less directly, lure them away and take out as many as we can quietly. It'll be tricky and take a few days, but it's possible. Pat was a fucking moron who got lazy in the end, so I can't say he was much of a loss, but I can fix this."

"Yes, you fucking will, and because of both of your dumbasses, we've got this shit storm to take care of," Negan sighed angrily. "How many bodies do you need?"

"Enough to get two more trucks out there and to repossess the ones we lost. I'm thinking we could also use something that will cause a lot of destruction but not make much noise. Think we could take that flame thrower?" Dwight caught the suspicious look that crossed Negan's face, so he was quick to explain his reasoning. "That way we don't have to get too close. Once some are on fire, they'll all start to catch on fire, and pretty soon there won't be no way to put them out. They'll kill each other before they can get much farther, and I'll be sure we lead them where they won't start a fucking forest fire or anything. We'll keep it contained and quiet."

"Okay," Negan agreed in a chafed, reluctant tone. "What direction were they heading when you left?"

"We led them northeast, clear away from any of our communities before ditching them and coming back here. I'm hoping that'll get rid of a good chunk of them by the time we get back," Dwight answered.

"Good." Negan nodded. "You and Trevor rest for the night and inventory everything you'll need in the morning. Find some men that won't be fucking dipshits that get themselves killed this time. We can leave the morning after that."

"We?" Dwight questioned.

"Yeah." Negan gave him a curious look. "I've got to deal with this shit, too. What kind of leader would it make me if I didn't?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it. We'll leave tomorrow night or early morning instead of the day after. It'll give us time to get into the area and assess what's going on from higher ground."

"You tryin' to steal my thunder, D?" Negan asked, a smile breaking through the worry. "Or are you planning something?"

"Nah, I just want to prove I can do some things on my own," Dwight acknowledged, and shuffled his feet.

 _Stay here, you fucking asshole. Don't ruin my plans,_ Dwight cursed him.

Negan eyed his shifting feet and let out a soft scoff. "Whatever. Just try not to lead those dead fucks back here."

"Of course not." Dwight's face remained straight as he fought to keep the corner of his mouth down. Negan had practically read his mind.

"And take Daryl with you." Negan changed his mind about the caged man. "Get rid of him. I don't care how. Make sure you witness how he "accidentally" dies so that Everly can have some fucking closure."

"Will do," Dwight agreed and left the room before Negan saw the smile that finally broke out across his face.

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **I am SOOOOO sorry this is super, duper late! I've been in a major rut emotionally and mentally the past few weeks and all I have had the energy for is sleeping (ha) and/or staring at a tv screen for hours. I'm slowly coming out of it, and I'm hoping that by this end of this week I'll be back to normal. I'm excited for Thanksgiving break because I've been fucking needing one since summer ended. I hope this chapter doesn't seemed rushed. I hated to keep you guys waiting, and I tried to get it done as quickly as I could considering my state of mind lately.**

 **Also, big thanks to Nightperidot for offering to be my new beta! She also gave me a great idea for what I can do about the Neverly dilemma. Instead of including a scene between them at the end of a chapter, I'm going to make one that is very open-ended where nothing obvious happens but something _could_ have happened. Once the story is finished, I'll do a epilogue type of thing where we'll see what actually went down. I think that'll make the story transition more smoothly and give everyone what they want. Those who don't want a Neverly thing won't have it, and those who do will get it in the epilogue.**

 **Sound good? Okay! Great, grand, wonderful!**

 **P.S. I plan on posting the next chapter this upcoming Monday to get back on schedule, and thanks to all of my reviewers! I'll try to respond to you guys soon (if I have the option).**


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

A knock at the door startled her from a light sleep, and Everly slowly sat up in bed, squinting through the darkness at the door. She listened as she clutched the sheets to her chest and glanced at the microwave clock in the small kitchen. It read a little past midnight, and she was curious who was at her door in the middle of the night. She rubbed her eyes, contemplating ignoring the unwanted visitor and going back to sleep when another knock came, and she straightened up, perturbed.

She pushed the covers aside and ran slim fingers through her hair. She didn't bother with the lights as she padded to the door, thinking she would be back in bed soon, but a chill ran from her toes, up her legs, and through her spine to lift the hairs on the back of her neck. At the door, Everly reached to unlock the knob but hesitated. It was highly unlikely there was anyone on the other side of the door that she didn't know, but the chance of meeting a stranger - or someone who wished her harm - was still possible.

"Who's there?" She asked and tilted her head as she waited for an answer, but the only one she got was another impatient knock.

Everly gritted her teeth, unsure if she should just open the door or not. Her hand hovered above the knob and as she tried to make a decision, a forth knock helped convince her.

"Dammit," she whispered and unlocked the door, ready to scream bloody murder if it was someone she didn't recognize.

The door edged open, and she braced a leg on the inside so that she could slam it closed with her weight if need be, but as she blinked away the sudden brightness from the hallway, she saw it was Negan. He stood directly in front of her with his head resting against the jamb, his left arm concealed behind the wall he leaned on. He smirked down at her and she noticed his bottom lip was split and swollen as was his left eye.

"Took you fucking long enough, sleeping beauty." He placed the fingertips of his right hand flat on the outside of the door to widen the tiny gap where she peered up at him. "Sorry I woke you, but I just wanted to see your pretty face before I hit the hay."

"It's fine," she lied, glancing at his lip again and creasing her brows. "What happened to you?"

"Wanna join me in a nightcap?" He deflected the question and drummed his fingers on the door. "I promise I'll let you go back to sleep once we're done. I just want some company and yours is the only one I want."

"Isn't that scheduled for tomorrow night? It's late," she began to refuse.

"We'll make it a quickie." He winked at her and chuckled to himself when she rolled her eyes.

She took in a deep breath and stepped back. "Fine, but only one."

"Perfect." He smiled broadly and watched her turn to walk to the kitchen, his eyes running hungrily up and down the pale skin that wasn't covered by the baggy t-shirt and shorts she wore.

Without a backward glance, he slid past the door and set the camcorder he had hidden in his left hand on a table. He made sure Everly was preoccupied as he angled it just right and locked the door behind him. It captured her in the now dimly lit kitchen retrieving glasses and uncorking a bottle of wine, and while she was busy, Negan bent over the camera, making sure his mouth was close enough to be heard as he whispered a message.

"Enjoy the show, Daryl. It's all for you."

* * *

Hot water ran over me in a scalding cascade as it washed away all of my decisions, all of my choices and regrets. If only it could wash away my fears too. I scrubbed my skin until it was pink, wanting to be cleansed and wishing I could dig my fingers deep into my skull to wipe my memory clean of everything that had happened, not just of this past week or last night, but of all I lived through since the whole world became dark. I shook my head, telling myself nothing had happened so I had no reason to feel guilty or…dirty. But I did anyway, and so I soaped up the loofah once more and grated my skin again.

When I could stand it no longer, and figured I was as clean as I was going to get, I rinsed the suds away and shut off the shower. I stood there for a moment in blankness and concentrated on the droplets running down me, memorizing the feel of them as they marked a map on my body. My eyes closed and in my mind I saw their traces forming into shapes, making delineations on a fleshy canvas and branding me for who I really was. I told myself that I was a survivor, that everything that I had done and would do was to survive. That I wasn't enduring this hell alone but with those I cared about as every aspect of my life and the decisions I made affected them as theirs' did me. These thoughts took me away and set me at ease when all I felt before was the seed he'd planted in me; the seed of compliance and servility.

I got out of the shower, drying myself off and ringing out my hair. It was going to be another boring day of sitting around and doing jack shit while the other wives and I waited for His Righteousness to gift us with his presence. The last damn thing I needed was time to think. If anything, remembering his swollen lip and black eye would get me through the day. It was satisfying to see that Negan had finally gotten a taste of what he deserved and I wondered who had given it to him. Initially, I thought Daryl had been the one and my heart had practically come rocketing out of my chest, but Negan's lack of mentioning his name or whereabouts convinced me it couldn't have been. Surely if Daryl had, Negan would've made a huge spectacle out of him; burnt his face, smashed his head with Lucille, or something equally as gruesome, but no meetings were to be held and so far, nothing had happened.

 _Nothing…had happened_. It was turning into my own personal mantra.

So, I got dressed up like I did every day since becoming a wife and joined my sisters in the lounge as I continued to speculate who could've attacked Negan. As soon as I stepped in, Sherry came and pulled me into the small dressing room off to the side. It was steadily becoming our secret rendezvous spot and I sat on a chair patiently as she locked the door behind us.

"Tonight," she said with an excited glimmer in her eyes. "You're leaving tonight."

I blinked at her slowly, my mind too preoccupied to absorb what she said. "What?"

The expectant smile Sherry wore faded a bit, and she grabbed a seat next to me and looked me in the eye.

"Dwight has a crew that is leaving tonight to corral a large number of the dead. Negan requested that Daryl goes, so the only person we need to worry about sneaking out of here is you. But don't worry," she winked at me. "I'm going to keep Negan busy all night while you and Daryl leave this place for good."

"No," I said, taking her words and turning them over in my head dumbly. "That won't work."

"What do you mean?"

"Negan is supposed to come to my room tonight. How can you keep him busy if he's with me?" I told her, knowing he wouldn't change his mind about our date. After last night, his expectations were clear and he had set them high. "He's…had you before."

I blushed as her smile died and she seemed to be solving the problem in her head.

"He won't make you if you don't let him," she said.

"I know, but he won't take a refusal forever," I responded despondently. I needed her to understand my desperate situation.

"You're missing the point, Everly." Her smile was back, but it was small. "You only have to refuse him one last time. After that, you won't be here anymore and he can't take anything away from you then."

I didn't have the frame of mind to quite believe her. "Are you so sure about that?"

"Is everything okay? You seem…down." Her brows furrowed as she looked me over.

I quickly straightened my back and held my head up. "I'm fine, just tired. I didn't sleep well." But immediately, I could feel my straightened posture begin to slip again.

I chose not to tell her that Negan had visited me in the middle of the night for fear she'd read something into it; something I didn't want known. I didn't want shared pity nor did I want anyone knowing he'd been there. It was like I had some dark secret that would unwind the strings of everything I cared about if it was brought into the light, and truthfully, I did. The truth was that I was slowly breaking, just like Negan said I would. He had been right all along, from the very beginning, I just couldn't see it. But now, I couldn't seem to see anything else.

"You do look exhausted…," she remarked and then her eyes lit up. "We'll tell him you're sick or that it's your time of the month. It might gross him out enough to leave you alone."

"It could work," I nodded, but I couldn't picture Negan being squeamish. He enjoyed watching people bleed too much that it might not matter where it came from. "We could try and see."

"Listen, I'm going to tell you the plan and then you go back to your room and rest. Get as much sleep as you can for tonight. When Negan comes, I'll cover for you," Sherry offered.

"What if he doesn't buy it?"

"I'll make him." She rubbed my shoulder. "You're leaving tonight, okay? It's all set."

A slight smile tugged at my lips and the fog that had settled around me started to lift. "Okay. Tell me the plan."

According to her, Dwight had been up to no good and was currently hard at it. I was impressed with everything he had accomplished so far and my trust for him grew with each word Sherry shared. He had given some of Negan's weapons from Somerset to the Kingdom, but Alexandria was still being closely monitored by Negan's sentries. All of that was coming to an end soon, though.

"The plan is for you guys to end up at the Kingdom, not the cabin as we originally planned. From there, Dwight, his men, your friends, and the other communities will take out Negan's outposts one by one until they end here," Sherry informed me. "By then, Negan will have already lost."

"And Kai is on board for sure? He isn't going to turn on us?" I asked.

"So far, so good," she shrugged. "He hasn't gone back on his word that we know of."

I shook my head, putting it in my hands and confessed, "I nearly fucked us with that one."

"You read the situation and did what you thought was best. It worked out, so don't feel guilty about it."

"Everything is in place?" I wasn't feeling entirely confident at the moment.

"The last step is getting you two out of here. After that, there's no stopping it."

"And when he realizes I'm gone?" I lifted my head up to meet her eyes.

"By then," she said, "Negan will be as good as dead."

* * *

He had spent his last restless night in the cell cramped, cold, and angry. His knuckles were bruised and raw where he'd hit the cement wall when the rage became too overwhelming, and it felt as if his ribcage would crumble in on itself at any minute, but he appreciated the pain. He took it for what it was worth and considered himself still human, still alive, and he'd remember this moment in the future when his faith and compassion were tested – if he even had one.

At the moment, however, it was his sanity he tried to encapsulate. It was slowly slipping away from him as each second drifted by. Like a slow dripping faucet, time seemed to move tediously. He wouldn't be surprised to find that days had gone by when the door to his cell finally opened. But Negan wouldn't keep him alive that long. He had plans for Daryl; terrifying, twisted plans. He envisioned how they looked, the patients of the now dying Dr. Carson. Some of them were already deceased and had turned, and some were trapped in the transformation; dying but not quite dead. Daryl catalogued their faces and put them into a space in a dark, haunted corner of his mind. He could never forget them, but he hoped the details of their terror would fade with time.

"You sure he wants _him_? He's supposed to be Dr. Avery's newest patient."

A deep voice speculated outside of Daryl's cell door and he tensed as the footfalls stopped outside. The coiled snake called fear tightened around his gut. This was it. This is where his death began, and soon he would know just what it was like to die.

"How many times do I have to fucking tell you?" Daryl could hear the impatience in Dwight's voice. "He was requested to be part of my crew by Negan himself, so open the damn door unless you'd rather explain to him why you're wasting my, and his, time."

"Alright. Whatever you say," the other man sighed and a key slipped into the knob of the door.

Just like last time, the dim hallway lights were like rays from the brightest sun. Daryl's eyes watered as he closed them and turned away, holding up a hand to block the obtrusion from his face.

"Fucking Christ, you look like shit man," Dwight remarked but his tone held an air of jest. "Was it you who got a few hits in?"

"Fuck you," Daryl grumbled. His mood was ten times worse than his physical appearance. "It was more than a few."

Dwight snickered and gave the Savior by his side a head shake. "This guy doesn't realize how fucking lucky he is."

The other Savior scoffed out a laugh. "Tell me about it. If it were one of us, our heads would be freak slop by now."

"He looks half-way there already," Dwight teased and then rapped his knuckles on the door. "Come on, man. Let's get you cleaned up and ready to go. We're leaving in a few hours."

Daryl squinted at the figures in the doorway, not fully understanding what Dwight had said. "What?"

Dwight sighed. "Get up and I'll explain as you freshen the fuck up. Do it before I fucking puke. You smell like shit."

Confused, Daryl pushed to his feet, bracing himself along the wall as he went. He glanced back and forth between Dwight and the Savior beside him, completely untrusting of the both of them, but something in Dwight's eyes made him shuffle forward and out into the hallway.

"I've got it from here, Pete," Dwight said and the other man shrugged and walked away.

"Are you supposed to be doin' this?" Daryl eyed Dwight with suspicion and the scarred man smirked.

"In fact, I am. Surprised?"

Daryl looked away as the fight he had stored in himself began to drain away. "Yeah."

"Good." Dwight smacked his back and looked around the empty hallway. He lowered his voice. "Gotta keep you on your toes for what's coming next. First, you need to take a damn shower and then I'll fill you in on everything. Don't ask questions; just do what I tell you."

Daryl didn't acknowledge him with an answer, but moved forward at the behest of Dwight's hand on his shoulder. He limped along the hallway to the locker room, but the farther he walked, the stronger his legs felt as they stretched and the blood circulated through them. All he needed now was some food and water. After that, he might feel up for what was coming next.

As Daryl showered, he thought about Everly and if whatever Dwight had planned involved her. He wanted to assume so, practically ached with wanting it to be true, but the way intent was always underlined with deception in this shithole, Daryl's already withered optimism was bone dry. He wouldn't fully believe anything that was said to him until he saw it with his own damn eyes and felt her in his arms; even then he might not accept that it was real. For all he knew, this was just a fantasy; an escape from the reality that he was still closed in with the darkness in that small, damp room.

Daryl rubbed the water out of his eyes and shut the shower off, toweling himself dry before stepping out of the stall and getting dressed. It was slow moving for him, but the warmth from the water had relaxed his sore muscles some, and he ignored the hideous bruising that purpled his skin.

"Follow me," Dwight told him and led him out of the locker room.

He took Daryl to a room; the same one they had met in before when Everly had returned from her trip with Negan. Inside were a few men Daryl didn't recognize, but he saw Alan and Shawn among them, and they greeted him with a handshake when he walked in.

"Okay, you assholes, this is what we've got." Dwight walked to the center of the room and bent over a table. On it laid a map with several markings and labels. "We'll head north right where I told Negan I ditched the mindless, but we'll be making a slight detour. Our first stop will be the Kingdom where we'll pick up more people and drop two of ours off; Daryl here and his girl, Everly. From there, we'll go up to Somerset, take over the compound and their weapons. Whoever wants to join us can and the rest will be monitored. After, we'll pack up and head over to Hilltop where we'll do the same, and then we hit Alexandria. Once we've secured each community, you all will split off to overpower Negan's outposts while I round up the massive dead up North and lead them here," Dwight pointed to a spot circled several times with red marker. "Negan's Sanctuary."

Around the room, men smiled with anticipation and Dwight looked satisfied.

"This should all go smoothly if we stick to this plan. No sudden liberties and don't chicken out. Once you're in, you're in for good. Is everyone clear on that?"

There was a chorus of agreement and head nods. Dwight looked at Daryl who stood silently listening.

"You've got the easy part," Dwight told him. "You and Everly stay at the Kingdom until we come back to get you. By then, we'll have Somerset and Hilltop people to aid us. It should only take us a day, but if it's more, get the weapons I've left and go to Alexandria to take it back. King Ezekiel should provide you with plenty of men to help get the job done."

"Alright," Daryl agreed, getting his mind ready.

"Sherry's going to get Everly to meet us in the garage, but someone will have to meet her along the way." Dwight looked around at everyone.

Daryl was going to take the responsibility when Alan piped up. "I'll do it."

Dwight nodded at him, but Daryl was less than pleased.

" _I'll_ do it," he countered with a glare.

"No," Dwight refused instantly. "It'll be suspicious if you're hovering around the halls. Alan will get Everly and bring her to us. It will be the quickest and safest way. Trust me."

Daryl tightened his jaw and breathed through his nose but didn't argue further. He would do what he could to get Everly back and get the fuck out of here.

"Fine," he relented unhappily. He faced Alan. "Don't get fuckin' caught or _I_ will kill you."

"Sure thing, pal," Alan promised. "And you're welcome."

Daryl crossed his arms. He was too angry and anxious to feel grateful. All he wanted was to be gone from here and for Everly to be safe with him, away from Negan. Then he'd start passing out thanks.

"So, we're all set?" Dwight asked the room, his warning eyes lingering on Daryl for an instant.

"We're ready to go, D," a man replied and the others followed suit.

"Great." Dwight tapped the map and folded it up. "We leave in two hours after sunset. Let's get our shit together and roll."

* * *

 **Edited (and a few lines written) by Nightperidot.**

 **So, how was the Neverly scene? Was it subtle enough? Vague? Anything could have happened after Negan was a sneaky shit. What do you guys think went down? lol What do you all think of Dwight's plan? Will it go without a hitch? I don't know! You never can tell...**

 **Well, sorry if this chapter is lame. It's a short one, too, but I do have more time this week to relax and write. By the next chapter, things will start to move more quickly. Hell, this story might be done in the next five to ten chapters or so. I'll have to see as I continue to plan the story and piece it together. It's my hope that I can tie it all nicely in the end, and I'm excited for what's to come.**

 **Thanks for reading, guys!**


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56**

After my conversation with Sherry, I took her suggestion and went to my room to rest. Most of my day passed peacefully, and I was able to sleep more soundly knowing that today could potentially be the last time I would ever fall unconscious in this place. I was anxious for tonight; mostly to get out of here, but there was also a large part of me that was expecting something to go wrong and in a big way. The past few months had been nothing but cruel to me with little reprieve in between, so it wasn't an unrealistic assumption. Yet I pushed the pessimism aside, as well as the covers, and got out of bed.

I checked the time, noting it was after seven. Sherry mentioned that Dwight's crew would be leaving at ten o'clock and that I was to meet them at the garages. I wasn't entirely sure where they were located, but she assured me I would be escorted. By whom, I didn't know, and she was unsure as well. That didn't sit easy with me, but what other choice did I have? This was our chance and it was now or never. If we were caught, then I'd do whatever it took to protect Daryl. Whatever happened to me didn't matter and hopefully nothing would.

 _Nothing had._

I shook my head and went into the bathroom to freshen up. I needed to stay busy until the clock ran down for me to sneak out, but I decided not to get dressed yet in case Negan dropped by. It would be suspicious if I were in a pair of blue jeans and all bundled up for chilly weather, so I remained in a t-shirt and pajama shorts; something I much preferred over the short dress I had adorned earlier.

I finished washing my face and brushing my teeth, making sure I did each task as deliberately as possible to waste time. I combed my hair and thought about how I would wear it tonight. Maybe in a braid to keep it out of the way in case we needed to move quickly. That seemed wise, and I set out a hair tie to remind me when it came time to get ready. But that was all I had left to do except wait, so I resigned myself to nervous pacing and cleaning. Perhaps a tidy room would soften the blow when Negan realized I'd left.

Or maybe I'd destroy it as a giant fuck you.

With a silent smirk, I unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out, considering the act and imagining what I would do when I finally saw Daryl. Hug him? Kiss him? Tell him how sorry I was we had ended up this way? Forgiveness might be a token I needed to earn from him, but it wouldn't be cruel or demanding. He would let me collect it effortlessly because he knew I hadn't sacrificed myself to hurt him.

And he loved me.

As confidence lifted my shoulders, movement from the left side of the room caught my eye, and I jumped back, a startled hand coming up to clutch my chest as I focused on Negan sitting at my kitchen table. His smirk grew as mine disappeared, and I took in a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart, aplomb dust in the wind.

"How'd you get in here?" I asked, yet I already had a good guess.

Negan sat back, his grin growing with enjoyment.

"I do own this fucking place." He cocked his head and kicked out a chair next to him. "Sit with me."

Nervously, and trying not to show it, I walked to the table and sank down on the chair adjacent to him. I got as comfortable as I could under the circumstances, trying to look tired but easygoing, yet I wasn't sure how great of a job I was doing. I was never good at pretending though I tried, and one glance at Negan proved that he saw right through me.

"Sherry told me you weren't feeling well today, but you seem fine to me." Negan's right hand drummed on the wood table. "You seemed perfectly fine last night, too."

I swallowed against the suddenly tightness in my throat. "Funny, because I didn't fucking feel fine."

"You sure about that?" His fingers went still as he squinted at me, his smile disbelieving.

"Very." I fought back a sneer.

Negan threw his hands up and raised his eyebrows in apology. "Well, fuck me. I clearly fucking missed that subtle as shit signal from you then."

"Really?" I sat forward. "What exactly was subtle about it? Was it when I told you to stop or how I pushed you off of me?"

"And I did. I understand you were feeling nervous at first. I told you I wasn't angry about that."

"I wouldn't care if you were," I spat and folded my arms as my left knee bobbed up and down. "Why are you in my room now, Negan? Why did you let yourself in here when you told me, _promised_ me, that you'd give me time? Space?"

"Because I wanted to check on you, and when you didn't answer the door, I got nervous," Negan admitted, and I looked away as a small sliver of guilt hit me.

"Don't try to manipulate me."

Negan sighed. "I'm fucking not. I'm being honest with you like I always fucking am."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Whatever. I'm fine. Can you leave now?"

I flinched as his hand shot out to grab the edge of my chair and yanked it toward him. The legs scraped sharply against the floor, and I held on at the sudden movement, pushing myself against the clothed back as Negan peered over me, his eyes boring into mine.

"I'm being very kind to you. Don't be inconsiderate by telling me to fucking leave." The corners of his mouth were turned down, and I bit back the smartass remark that I hadn't told him to do anything. I'd asked him. "We have a date tonight and it isn't over until I'm fucking ready for it to be. We haven't even had a drink yet."

"I'm not thirsty," was my reply, and Negan was not pleased.

"What fucking is it that you expect to do here?" His brows creased in frustration and I mirrored him. "You aren't my wife just for the goddamn title. You are my wife because you are _married_ to _me_ , but so far, this shit doesn't come close to what I would deem a marriage. I'd call it you _using_ me to buy your fucking friends some time with little payoff on my end."

"Leave them the fuck out of it, you ass-" my words ended with a gasp as he grabbed my thighs and pulled them apart, dragging me to the edge of my seat. He held me halfway in his lap, my legs dangling over his, and I gripped his shoulders, the leather of his favorite jacket unyielding against my squeezing fingers as I pushed, but he was stronger than me.

"I've been nothing but patient with you, and not just this week, but since I fucking met you. You are the most provoking damn woman I've ever met, but god…dammit." His eyes closed as his fingertips dug into my skin. "I want you."

"Negan," my voice shook as his hands started up my thighs and edged under my shorts, "Just give me one more night. Please."

"You to keep changing your mind, but I don't want to wait anymore." His refusal ghosted over my lips.

"Give me tonight. I promise…"

He kissed my jaw, my neck, and my skin tingled where his beard scratched my skin. He nipped the flesh under my ear and the warmth from his breath covered me with goose bumps, and I shut my eyes, trying to lock myself away from his touch.

"One more," he growled and his thumb flicked over my center, causing me to jerk from the unexpected sensation. "And _tomorrow_ , I'm gonna start right here."

He caught my bottom lip between his teeth and sucked. I tried to bite back, but he seemed to read my movements before they happened and gripped the side of my neck, forcing his thumb under my jaw. Impulsively, my mouth opened from the pressure and he filled it with his tongue, not allowing me the chance to take in a breath. I strained against him, shoving his chest, and he relented, abruptly standing before me. The action was so sudden that his chair toppled backward and I nearly fell out of mine, but my neck was still prisoner in his hand, and I grasped his wrist as my head was angled upward.

"You're hurting me," I coughed and tugged at his arm, but he remained unmoving as he stared down at me.

"That's the point, isn't it? To hurt." He released the pressure some and I took in a fluttering breath. "Everybody will hurt you, Everly. Me, your friends, Daryl… They already fucking have, but they'll never admit it. They'll pussyfoot around the truth to spare your goddamn feelings, but not me. I'll tell you to your fucking face that you need to feel pain, and you should expect it from everyone because that is all they're good for… Hurting you."

Negan yanked me to my feet and I swayed against him, bracing myself on his chest. He was going fucking mad, and I was beginning to feel scared. I felt almost as helpless as I did when I was captured in the woods and tears pierced my eyes, blurring the blank, hard features of his face. I didn't understand why the feeling of deception hit me, but it did.

"It's exactly what I tell myself every day, and it's saved my fucking life more times than I can count on two goddamn hands. No one is a saint. They don't want to help you, and they don't want to see you happy. They want to see you suffer."

"And that's what you want from me." My lips trembled in anger and fear. "You like it just like those fucking rapists in the woods. You weren't saving me out of protection. You were doing it because they were going to take me and you couldn't stand that, could you? Losing someone you weren't done torturing yet. Someone you think _belongs_ to you."

Negan smiled then, his lips spreading so wide that I thought his bottom one would split open again, and I contemplated digging my thumb into his black eye.

"You tell yourself whatever the fuck you think it is you know about me. Convince yourself that I'm the fucking devil in disguise. Shit, that might be precisely fucking right, but don't fucking kid yourself, baby. I'm not the only one." Negan hands roamed over me in a tender way, like he was trying to soothe me while intimidating me with his words. "The difference is my intent. I want what's best for you while those other fucks do it to get off."

"You're a fucking joke," I flared. He was a raging sociopath that reveled in the pain of others; he couldn't hide that truth from me. It was how he survived.

"Use your brain, Everly. Would I be where I'm at right now if I didn't give a shit? I built this place from the fucking ground up. I gave people a home and a sense of goddamn purpose when the world had none left to give. I used the evil people showed me and turned it back on them to put them in their fucking place, and I grabbed that control with one fucking hand... I know I'm no shining star of morality, but it hardly counts to bat a fucking eye when what drives survival in this world is fear and death."

I looked away from him, not wanting to continue this conversation and wishing he would leave. The purpose of his actions and beliefs had no meaning to me. I didn't want to understand why he chose to be who he was; it was too confusing, and I couldn't relate to it. I didn't want to experience it anymore, but he grabbed my face in his hands and forced my eyes to meet his.

"It _hurts_ , Everly." And his eyes widened slightly, like he hadn't meant to let those words go.

The silence was deafening, and I could hear my heartbeat under his restraining palms as I studied him, trying to ascertain what he meant and how much honesty lied in his claim. What hurt? And was it his pain?

"What…?" I whispered, but my half-asked question was dismissed as he quickly changed the topic and his hands fell from me.

"I nearly killed Daryl yesterday."

My chest caved in on itself as the breath flew out of me in a desperate, "Oh."

"And he would be dying right now had it not been for Dwight's fuck up, but I've made arrangements to fix that issue, and I was merciful enough to allow Daryl to help with that."

It clicked then. The bruises and cuts on Negan's face, his late night visit and how persistent he'd been with me, and why Sherry had resisted telling me anything she knew of Daryl's whereabouts. I had been falling asleep every night praying that he was safe, hanging upside down in my nightmares, and each morning I woke too afraid to find out for myself. Now, I regretted it.

"What did you do to him?" I demanded in a whisper.

"Unfortunately, not enough," Negan answered, and I clutched his jacket wildly. He put his hands over mine to pull them away, but I held on tightly. "Your pal Dr. Avery and his colleague, Dr. Carson, are good doctors, but their aspirations sure are fucked to hell. Typically their patients are voluntary even though the trials always lead to a drawn out death, but I don't think the docs ever share that part."

"What?" I demanded, not understanding what the hell he was talking about and how it pertained to Daryl.

Negan smiled and roughly pried my hands from him. He strolled to the counter where he rummaged for some glasses and a bottle of alcohol.

"Daryl almost became one of the rare, non-consenting kind. _However_ ," he lifted a finger in the air, "my forgiveness knows no fucking bounds. You see, the Sanctuary doctors have been working damn hard toward a cure for the infected, and while the nobility of such an act stands strong, their methods are on par with the fucking Nazis. I will say that they've made some strides in their goals, so that's a plus, but it's a weak one. Not that Dr. Carson gives much of a shit anymore."

It was then I remembered back to my first month here when Negan had caught Daryl and me trying to escape. As punishment, he'd chained Daryl outside with a bunch of loose walkers, and it had been up to me to find the key to unlock and save him. After, I'd been allowed to visit the infirmary where Dr. Avery had taken care of me. He was so kind and gentle every time I saw him that I believed what he truly wanted was to help. I thought back to him speaking of exploring for a cure and finding benevolence in that, but it had been so vague. I couldn't have fathomed what that had meant until now, and suddenly the locket with the name inscribed _Amanda_ held so much more meaning to me.

 _"She was here maybe all of three months and she hardly ever spoke to anyone. There was one person here, though, that she did speak to quite often… Dr. Avery."_

Suzanne's voice echoed in my head, and my legs felt weak as I slid back down into my chair, thinking of all the atrocities that Daryl might have gone through - or might be going through right now. Was he even still alive? How many people had been subjected to this? Was this whole plan of escape a giant game for Negan and now he'd caught me red-handed once more? Would I be Dr. Avery's next victim…? My eyes drifted begrudgingly upward to the monster in my kitchen as he poured two glasses full of rum and looked toward the fridge inquisitively.

"Got any juice?" He asked and his cheeks dimpled.

I took in a deep, unsteady breath and whispered, "Answer me."

Negan furrowed his brows as he swallowed a sip of his drink and came back to the table, plopping a full glass in front of me and righting his chair. "Answer what?"

I closed my eyes and waited until I felt like I could speak without my voice wavering.

"What did you do to him?"

"I thought I already fucking answered that," Negan smiled as he sat and drank. "Nothing. I _did_ want to strap his sorry ass to a fucking bed and let some dead shit rip chunks out of him, but plans changed before it got that far. Considering how much of a man he's been trying to prove himself to be, he sure did turn into a fucking pussy when he thought he was going to die. He even asked for the iron instead."

"So, he's okay? He's not dead?" I managed to ask through the fear.

Negan was silent as I stared down at the floor, blinking fresh tears out of my eyes while trying not to lose myself in misery.

"He's fine." His voice was hard, and I heard the clamor of his glass as he set it down.

He stood up and came to me, hovering by my side. When he reached out a hand to brush my hair behind my neck, I moved away, blocking him, and he leaned down in response. His fingers lifted my hair as he pushed his mouth to my ear.

"He doesn't have to stay that way, Everly, if you won't cooperate with me. Remember that... Be ready for me tomorrow," he hissed and let me go.

I waited until the door slammed behind him to let out the scream I'd been holding in and flipped the kitchen table over, panting in pure anguish. I was beginning to second guess running away now. The risks were too great, and I didn't want Negan to have a definite reason to follow through on his threat if he caught us. Daryl wasn't going to die because of me. The safest bet for him would be my compliance, but I was torn between what I desperately wanted and what seemed right. And in my indecision, I sank to my knees and cried.

* * *

"Over there," Negan instructed Sherry as he unzipped his jacket and threw it on his bed.

She followed him into the bedroom and shut the door, doing as he asked as he pulled his shirt over his head. She waited as he stared at her, sensing his time with Everly hadn't gone so well. She had tried to stop him, offered to spend the whole night with him doing whatever he pleased, but he'd been adamant about seeing her. Sherry even tried roping Tanya into her plans, but that hadn't helped, and Negan left the lounge without another word when he realized Everly was in her room.

Sherry had waited nervously for him for nearly an hour, annoyed and concerned as the other wives whispered amongst themselves. It really hadn't been that long, but in her mind it had seemed like forever when time was already precious. She was about to leave the lounge to find Dwight when Negan burst through the doors once more and commanded her to follow him. She had obeyed instantly.

"Undress."

Negan's voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she complied, removing each garment with care and peering up at him through her lashes when it seemed right. When at last she was naked before him, he kicked off his boots and stalked toward her, intent a lustful spark in his eyes.

"Bend over," he demanded, and Sherry did, placing her hands on the back of the couch.

The skin on her back prickled as she felt Negan come up behind her, and at first, nothing happened. He stood over her, not saying a word as the silence turned to ice between them. But soon she felt the heel of his hand between her shoulder blades pushing her down and her hands slipped to brace herself on the cushions below as he kicked her legs apart.

"You always had a nice fucking ass," Negan complimented as he ran his hands down her back and to the aforementioned part of her body, cupping and kneading her skin roughly. "Am I still allowed to do whatever I want?"

"Yes," she answered in a small voice, but she was starting to become unsure.

"That's right. You don't go back on promises, do you, Sherry?"

She wasn't sure what that meant, but didn't question it. "Never."

Negan hit her hard, and she bit her lip with a gasp as the pain in her buttock spread to her belly. The shock was almost as physical as the pain.

"That's why you're my favorite," he whispered in her ear and struck her backside again.

"Negan," she cried, tears forming in her eyes. She didn't like what was happening.

"Shh, I'm sorry, baby," Negan cooed and rubbed his hands over her reddened skin, admiring his handprints. "I wanted to try something new with you, and not to beat around the bush, but you _did_ say I could do whatever I wanted."

"I know." Sherry shook, and noticed her fingernails were digging into the leather cushions below her. She loosened her grip before she ripped a hole in them. "This is just too much for me. You have to be gentler."

"You gave me permission. Did you not?"

"Yes, but-" Sherry started, and Negan placed a hand over her mouth, effectively shutting her up.

"But don't turn yourself into a fucking liar, honey. I'm tired of hearing the word no."

Nodding, Sherry relinquished the idea of finding Negan's compassion. It wasn't always so hard to get through to him, but he was in a rare form tonight; discontent and afflicted. She wanted to ask what had transpired with Everly, but knew better than to bring that up. So she kept her mouth shut as he slapped her ass again and again, trying not to see this as a form of punishment. He'd been rough with her before of course, as by definition Negan was an ardent and rough lover, but he had never laid his hands on her in this way. He had never hurt her out of anger or even seemingly in pleasure at his causing her pain, which was exactly what this felt like now. She wondered what exactly Everly had done to get him to this state.

Her skin felt swollen and raw by the time he stopped, and Negan panted apologetic praises as he leaned over her, the fabric of his jeans scratching against her sensitive skin. She barely had time to wipe the wetness from her cheeks as he pushed her hips against the back of the couch, opening her wider to him as he examined his work. He kissed her tender flesh gently, a subtle reward for giving him what he needed.

"We're gonna do something different tonight. It might take some getting used to. Are ya up for it?" Negan caressed her skin and the ache was beginning to die down a little.

She nodded her head like a child, afraid to speak in fear he'd be upset at the emotion in her voice. He stepped away from her briefly, and Sherry heard him unbuckle his belt and slide it from the loops of his jeans.

"Don't be nervous. I'll be extra gentle this time," he promised, but she sensed the deceit hidden beneath his words.

* * *

Negan strode into the garage, his eyes searching the large space for one person in particular. He spotted him among the crowd, carrying supplies and loading them into a truck with obvious pain in his movements. He smiled as he watched him struggle, fully prepared to poke an already indignant, bad-tempered bear in its sore hide. Negan glanced back at the four Saviors he brought along with him and then started forward, zeroing in on the person he wanted to make as miserable as possible until he no longer had the pleasure of doing so. This man's time was running out, and Negan wanted to make sure it ended in just the perfect way.

"Daryl," Negan sang and the mentioned man stopped what he was doing instantly, crushing the bag he held in his hand. "How's it _coming_ along? You seem raring to fucking go, limping around like a damn dutiful altar boy after Sunday service. I bet you're excited for some _wide open_ spaces, am I right?"

Negan smiled as Daryl glowered, holding himself back by the tiniest of threads. He was practically aching at wanting to throw his shoulder into the grinning bastard's stomach, but jeopardizing his near escape would be stupid. Plus, Everly was supposed to show up at any minute and Negan couldn't be here when she did. Daryl glanced around briefly, noting that everyone was uncomfortably aware of their domineering leader, and he locked eyes with Dwight. The lieutenant left his spot to approach them, but Negan held up a halting hand, and Dwight stopped short, obedient, but remained where he was at and watched.

"You know, I never heard a thank you after I spared your pathetic fucking life from becoming an experimental buffet. It seems I just can't let you go, my friend, despite the fact that you don't seem to appreciate it one fucking bit." Negan held a hand to his chest and cocked back his head with a lazy smirk, but his features quickly became expectant. "Sooo, where's the gratitude you owe me?"

Daryl shifted on his feet, getting comfortable with his silence as he stared Negan down. He knew he was being stupid, but he couldn't bring himself to say the right words to save his ass. He was looking oppression right in its cruel, ugly face and sticking a silent middle finger under its nose. Daryl was hoping this wouldn't be the last time he'd see Negan. He wanted to witness the terror and humiliation on his face firsthand as everything he had was ripped out of his greedy fucking paws. But if someone got to Negan before he did, this moment would have to be good enough.

"Aw, Daryl, don't fucking be that way. You still feelin' a bit _tender_ about our last conversation?"

"Probably not as much as your fuckin' face," Daryl shot back and tossed the duffle bag to the side.

Negan chuckled, scratching his cheek in an attempt to restrain his shaking hand. It was pulsing with the need to turn into a fist and plow right into the side of Daryl's jaw, but that would ruin what he already had planned. He needed to maintain control, subdue the sting to his ego, and jab one more blade into Daryl's already shredded heart.

"Listen, I'm sorry." Negan donned a façade of imitated sincerity. "I have no hard feelings about you fucking me up. I deserved it for what I did. That was a scummy fucking thing for me to do. So, as a show of good faith, I've brought you a gift."

Negan held a hand up in the air and one of his Saviors placed an object in his hand. Daryl remained passive at first, but when he saw the camcorder appear over Negan shoulder and into his open palm, he began to feel lightheaded. This couldn't be what he thought it was.

"Think of it as a parting gift." Negan turned the camera over as if to examine it. "I sure did have a lot of fun with it, and in such a _short damn time_ …but I think now you'll get better use out of it than me."

At the sight of Daryl's face, Dwight edged forward, wary of the peculiar situation unfolding in front of him. He wanted to interfere but didn't know how. He eyed his men and saw they all had stopped working to watch, their interest piqued. Shawn was coming up behind Daryl, his footing indicative of making a grab for him lest he lost it and charged forward. Dwight, thinking it was a good idea, moved closer to Daryl too.

"I didn't quite get everything that I wanted on it, but I got what counts," Negan said cheekily. "And if you never make it back, well, at least you've got a way to remember Everly. The exceptional bare parts of her, at least."

Negan held the camera out; the final move to win his game, and it was a sucker punch right to Daryl's gut, leaving him immobile and disbelieving. He stared at the camcorder in Negan's hand, not really seeing it as he convinced himself that it couldn't be real. There was nothing on that tape. _Nothing_.

"Come on now, Daryl. Don't be rude. _Accept_ …your gift."

The camera was an ordinary thing. Not intimidating or dangerous in any way, but Daryl felt the alarm bells ringing in his head at full volume. He didn't want it. What he did want was blood, and he wanted Negan's; every ounce of it.

"Be cool, man," Shawn whispered at his shoulder. "Take it, and just be cool."

Dwight had already worked up a sweat loading up the trucks, but he was perspiring profusely now. Any minute, he could see Daryl doing something extremely stupid and irreversible. Negan wouldn't forgive a second attack as gracefully as he did the first. He had been extraordinarily restrained with Daryl compared to what he'd done to others, and those unfortunate souls had done far less.

A charming smile spread across Negan's face as he shared a tense moment with his favorite adversary. The unusual quiet around them would have been awkward had he not felt so much triumph in this moment. He had hit Daryl right where it would hurt him the most and cause him the worst misery his final few hours. Whether he actually watched the tape or not was entirely irrelevant as Negan suspected that Daryl more than likely wouldn't. It was the possibility, the uncertainty but unwillingness to know for sure what was on the tape that made him the loser. It had the beaten down man unraveling from the seams, tearing him inside out, and Negan was completely enthralled with the power it gave him.

He took a couple of steps forward, leaning close so only Daryl could hear.

"You can choose to take it or not. It makes no damn difference to me, but don't let the gnawing uncertainty eat you alive. We both know what's on this tape… You'll just have to play it to really know for sure." Negan shoved the camera into Daryl's stomach, grabbing one of his limp hands to curl around it with a cinching squeeze. "So, take it and get a good damn look. Don't be a fucking pussy."

Negan let go and moved back. Daryl loosely held the camera against him in a trance, feeling incoherent and betrayed. He glanced up at the sound of Negan's acerbic laugh; fury a rogue freight train in his wounded heart. A hard grip on his shoulder kept him back as he made to move forward, and he clutched the camera, grimacing in pain like it was a silver cross burning in his hand.

Satisfied, Negan commanded everyone back to work before swinging his eyes to settle on his lieutenant. "D, is everything ready to go?"

"Just about," Dwight said with a swallow. "Just a few loose ends to tie up and we'll be on our way."

Negan inclined his head and pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "Great. I got a few men here for you. Figured with the fucking disaster you left, some extra hands couldn't hurt."

Dwight eyed the four Saviors at Negan's back and silently cursed the dipshit. It was clear that he didn't fully trust his second-hand man, and that pissed Dwight off to no end. Not that Negan was wrong. He couldn't trust him in the least, and that made him extremely smart as well as intuitive, but it was a hiccup in their plans. They would have to risk time and energy to dispose of the encroaching quartet before they caught onto their fellow Savior's duplicity.

"They'll follow behind you in their own truck, so make sure you pack a few more supplies for them. Shouldn't take you much longer." Negan patted the slighter man on the back. "And before I forget, make sure you bring me back a souvenir. Maybe a hand or an eyeball. I'll let you choose."

Negan winked as Dwight acceded through a tightened jawed and watched his leader turn away to address the men behind him. He glanced at Daryl who stared in unadulterated rage at the back of Negan's head, the camera starting to crunch under the gravity of his clenching hold. When the scum dressed in leather finally left the room, shards of plastic and glass littered the air in an explosion. Everyone watched Daryl as he stomped with every ounce of energy he had on what was left of Negan's gift.

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving, and for those who don't celebrate it, I hope you had a good weekend too! I'm back at school, yaaaay... But only three more weeks until Christmas break! HELL YEAH!**


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

"I can't do this. I can't do this."

I walked back and forth in short strides, turning back again when I could go no farther to pace the opposite way. I was sick with distress, doubtful of what I should do. Stay here and suffer? Or leave with the chance of getting caught and suffer a worse fate than before? Either way, I would hurt the man I loved, but what was worth more? I felt half-witted; like I couldn't make a simple decision when in all reality, it just _wasn't_ that simple. I had gone over the pros and cons in my head multiple times, telling myself we'd planned this from the get-go, but I might as well put a white feather in my hair and change my middle name to chicken shit.

I screamed out in frustration, running clawing fingers through my hair. I checked the clock for the thousandth time and panic hit me. I had less than twenty minutes to be down in the garage or they might leave without me. But if I didn't show up, Daryl would probably try to find me and that would be bad; he could be spotted and then his chance of getting out would fall out of his reach, too. But what was I doing? I might be stealing that opportunity from him already. Would he really leave here without me? The answer was no. He promised me he would never leave me again, and while we'd been ripped apart, he wouldn't defect if I wasn't by his side.

I ran to my door on tiptoes, listening for any sounds or footfalls outside of it. I'd been a nervous wreck since Negan left my room, and in my mind, I saw the walls beginning to crack; like he'd come barreling down the halls at any moment and they'd fall away to leave me exposed, and he would know. Know that I was leaving.

I _was_ leaving.

I flew to the bathroom, tearing off the t-shirt I had on and kicking off my shorts. I ripped open the cabinet drawers and took out the clothes I'd hidden in there, quickly changing into attire better suited for what I was about to do. As I was finishing, the hair tie I had set out earlier caught my eye, and I quickly combed my hair before braiding it down my back. I secured the tip and pulled a black beanie over my head, feeling about as ready as I was going to be. I still wasn't sure about what to do, but I was not going to let anyone hurt me. And no matter what I did, I wouldn't be the cause of anyone else's pain either.

" _I'm_ not going to be the one that hurts. Not anymore."

With a final look in the mirror, I strode to the door as quietly as I could and listened again. Not a sound passed by and courage was a rapidly swelling tide that crashed into me, so I turned the knob, sweat slickening my hands, and took a deep breath before peeking outside. I looked down both ways, noting a lack of distant noise. That meant no one was nearby nor were they approaching. I took that as a good sign and slipped out into the hall, slowly closing the door behind me.

I needed to make it down to the ground floor without being noticed. That may be a bit difficult, but not impossible. I knew Saviors patrolled all levels of the Sanctuary, but considering how big this place was, it wouldn't be hard to sneak past them. Caution would be my confidant and I held it close by my side as I glided through Negan's private corridor and to the stairwell.

 _So far, so good_ , I told myself as I tentatively breezed down the stairs, stopping to peer around each corner and listen before moving forward.

I was beginning to feel like Lady Luck was a distant, arbitrary friend that only visited at the most desperate and rarest of times. Our first attempt of escape had not gotten this far, but here I was, nearly there. A few more steps and galloping heartbeats and I'd be free… And the closer I got to tasting freedom, the more cocksure I became that I - _we_ \- were getting out of here. But Negan's disappointed face loomed at the shadowy edge my conviction. I knew he was hidden there, ready to pounce and snatch away that light, but only if he was close enough to catch it, and I'd be damned if I was going to allow him to get within arms reach.

At the bottom of the stairwell, I paused behind the door and listened. I heard voices, distant ones, and I took a moment to judge how far away they were and if they were moving. The conversation grew closer and I backed away from the door toward the alcove under the stairs. When the voices stopped outside of the door, I ducked into the shadows and crouched, holding my breath.

"Did he say why we needed to gear up or no?"

The stairwell door opened and two bodies entered, their deep voices reverberating against the concrete structure. I keep my eyes on the edge of the steps, watching and waiting for snarling faces to appear with reaching claws to snake out and grab me, but they didn't.

"Shit if I know. I ain't even sure we're going anywhere. Bill just said to pack up and meet at twenty-three hundred hours."

"Fuck," the first voice sighed in annoyance. "I don't want to spend another night cleaning up some other asshole's mess."

I heard their footsteps thundering up the stairs I hid under, vibrating above me.

"Central outpost did black out. Could be we're goin' there to investigate," the second voice reasoned.

"In the middle of the night? Isn't that shit supposed to already be taken care of?"

"I don't know, man. I'm just throwin' out possibilities."

Their echoing voices dwindled and disappeared. I took a few additional minutes to muster up the previous boldness and assurance I had been feeling, but it was hard to take hold of; like my fingertips barely brushed the surface and I couldn't quite curl a grip around it. Something didn't seem right, but I ignored the pang in my gut and crept out from under the stairs.

 _You better have my damn back, Lady Luck. Don't leave me on my ass now._

I peeked up, looking for any signs of movement above me, but saw none. Moving to the door, I observed the outside noises once more, and when I determined the coast to be clear, I moved out and swiftly down the hallway to the rendezvous point Sherry had instructed me to go to. I walked determinedly, trying not to break out into a run. I kept throwing nervous glances over my shoulder, a sense of foreboding slowly creeping up my spine, but saw I was alone each time.

The emptiness of the corridors was beginning to feel strange. I thought I would have more trouble than this circumnavigating the factory, but it had been nearly effortless. It wasn't exactly late, but it was possible many Sanctuary workers were in bed or finding solace in some other format; maybe at the hideaway. I hoped that to be true. The more people who were distracted and out of our way, the better, because that meant we'd have a cleaner getaway.

I was nearly there, glancing past the corner with heedful care when I spotted a burly, blond man I'd seen with Daryl before. His friendly face smiled as he spotted me and he gave a small wave to show he'd been waiting for my arrival. I smiled back, relieved to have finally made it and started around the corner when Negan strutted into view at the other end.

"Sir!"

The blond man greeted Negan as he dropped to one knee, startled, and I whipped back, slamming myself against the corner wall out of sight. My heart was hammering under my sternum, ready to explode from fright. I wasn't sure if Negan had spotted me, but I had noticed his eyes were downcast before I'd shifted backward. Mine were frantically searching for a spot to hide as I slid down the corridor, my back still pressed against the wall. Most of the rooms on the ground level were utility closets, where supplies were kept or employed in some other way and many of them stayed locked. This length of hallway wasn't exactly short either.

 _Run!_ My mind screamed, but I couldn't. If I did that, I would be entirely too obvious. Sound carried easily through these bare walls as was evident by the rhythmic thud of Negan's rubber-soled boots that drew closer by the second. Time was up, and I started grabbing handles, cursing each one that held against my grip. But it was too late. Negan was going to turn down my hall and then it would be all over.

Unless…

Hastily, I threw my hood up, covering my head and pulling my beanie down lower. I faced away from Negan's direction and prayed he wouldn't pay me, some random in the hallway, any mind. The clothes I wore were inconspicuous enough that I might be able to pull off kneeling and avoid showing my face, but if he talked to me, I was caught. I just needed to stay calm, collected, and act like I belonged.

As I heard Negan enter the corridor at my back, I dropped to one knee and pushed my head so far down that my chin met my chest. I noticed my long swinging braid in front of me and I grabbed it in alarm, quickly tucking it under my hoody. Negan's boots began to slow as he drew nearer and I held down the bile that threatened to rise in my throat.

 _He saw. He fucking saw!_

I swallowed hard and focused on breathing quietly, trying to stop myself from shaking. It felt like his eyes were burning lasers on my back and I wanted to look up, to check if he was focused on me or if it was my imagination. When his boots slowed to a creep by my side, I knew I was done for, and closed my eyes in forfeit. This was where I would be groveling, begging for my life and promising him anything if he allowed me to keep it; allow Daryl to keep his.

But a young, female voice prevented me from the pleasure.

"Negan! I've been looking for you!"

My eyes shot up, no longer able to stay trained on the spotted floor under me. Rachel came down the hall, a bounce in her step as she glanced at me with a sly wink.

"Rachel, I've got shit to take care of." Negan sighed as she stopped in front of him. "We can talk later."

From my peripherals, I saw her hand shoot out to grab Negan's and I wondered if he had been about to reach for me.

"I know, but I just thought you could use some company. I was playing foosball with Laura and Theo, but it's been boring not having you there as my partner," Rachel practically whined and I resisted the urge to gag with disgust.

"Some other fuckin' time," Negan said, and I saw brief movement out of the corner of my eye before he said her name sternly.

"What?" I could hear the feigned innocence in her voice.

"Let…go."

Rachel sighed and I saw her feet shuffle backward. "Fine, but next time, I get a real conversation and a game of foosball with you."

"When I feel like playing fucking games, Rachel, _I'll_ find _you_ ," Negan grumbled, and he thumped my upper arm with Lucille. "As you were."

He didn't say another word as he stomped past me, not throwing a parting glance over his shoulder. When he disappeared at the end of the hall, a giant breath rushed out of me and I sat back on my feet, placing my hands over my face and waiting for the tingle from Lucille to ebb away.

"Boy, that was close. Hubby don't know you're out of your cage?"

Rachel's voice interrupted my moment of relief, and I looked up at her through my fingers. What was she doing over here? I stood up, using the wall as an aide, and looked her over. She seemed in one piece, and if her Cheshire grin was any indication, she was feeling good, too.

"Sneaking out, are ya?"

"Shh!" I hushed her and scourged the hall where Negan had left. "Stop talking so damn loudly. And I'm not sneaking out… What are you doing over here anyway?"

"Looking for Negan." Rachel cast me a derisive look. "You _were_ here for our entire conversation."

"Okay, it just seemed like perfect timing. Excuse me." I crossed my arms, but I didn't know what else to say. Rachel had already called me out and I wasn't sure how to redirect her. What if she ran after Negan to tell him?

"What are _you_ doing over here?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Nothing. Just out for a walk."

Rachel nodded and pointed at my abdomen. "Sure. Is that why you're dressed like that?"

"I'm not supposed to be wandering around, okay?" That was the half-truth. I truly wasn't, but I didn't need to affirm Rachel's suspicion. "Negan would've been pissed if he knew it were me kneeling here… Thanks for distracting him."

"No problem," she smiled with a shrug and we stared in a moment of awkward silence. Well, awkward on my part because Rachel always seemed as cool as a cucumber, and I envied her for that. "Well, I'll let you get back to your _walk_ then."

She started off, but I said her name before I could stop myself.

"Would you…want to walk with me?"

 _What the fuck are you doing?_ My inner-self screamed, but looking at Rachel now, it took me back to when I had first seen her, scared and shivering on the forest floor. She had been so different, seemed so real, in those terrifying moments that I knew the Rachel I had gotten to know since then wasn't her true self. She presented a façade; a splintered shield in which she protected herself from the outside world and all the harm it wanted to cause her. She reflected what she saw, mimicking those around her just like a child would do, and she was. She was a scared child. And while Rachel wasn't exactly my best friend in the world, I felt like I owed her more than what she'd been given in this second chance at life.

She looked confused as her guard promptly dropped along with her crossed arms, her brows creasing.

"Walk with you? Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"It's just a walk," I offered, hoping she understood the double meaning. I wasn't going to flat out tell her that I was leaving, but she seemed to already catch onto that. Maybe this offer to bring her along would keep her quiet, or at least show her I cared.

"I'm good," she said, that same mocking barricade rising back up around her.

I nodded, turning away, but my name from her mouth prompted me to stop and glance at her over my shoulder.

"Now we're even," she told me seriously, her face straight, and I knew what she meant. I had help save her and she helped save me. She'd paid me back in full.

"Stay safe, Rachel," I whispered and walked down the hall before I could be spotted again.

* * *

Alan and I paused near the garage entrance, waiting for all the men to load up. He had briefed me on what had transpired earlier with Negan and how he'd assigned four additional men, _his_ men, to join us on our deceptive journey. That meant he definitely knew we were up to something, he just didn't know exactly what.

"God, I wish I could see that bastard's face we he realizes he's nostrils deep in shit creek," Alan remarked as he watched his comrades start to enter their vehicles. He peered down at me. "As soon as I see Negan's men get into their trucks, you'll walk out with me with your head down. They're parked on the opposite side of our second truck, so they shouldn't see you, but move quickly anyway. You never know."

"Right," I agreed and held myself back from bouncing on my feet. I was ready to go. "Daryl will be in our truck?"

"Of course." He gave me a playful wink and I smiled as pure, genuine happiness filled me. It was intense after feeling nothing but sorrow these past weeks, and I couldn't stop myself anymore. I was bouncing on my feet.

"Now?" I asked impatiently.

Alan held up a finger, his eyes watching everybody's movement closely. After a few dragging minutes, he finally nodded and said, "Now."

He stepped forward quickly with me close at his heels, keeping my head down but up enough to know where I was going. As we came to our truck, I nearly broke away from his side to run up to it, but I kept my impulses in check and allowed him to open the door for me. Before I could fully register Daryl's face in front of me, he had me off of my feet and in his lap, crushing his mouth on mine.

"Uuuuh, you guys?" Alan intoned politely behind us. "I need to get into the truck, too."

A chorus of snorted laughter filled the cabin and Daryl broke away from me temporarily to scoot against the left passenger door before we were back at it.

"Y'all better not start fucking in here," someone from the front warned.

I parted from Daryl with a giggle which left him disappointed. He tried to capture my lips with his once more, but I leaned back and cupped his face, giving him a small smile.

"We'll have enough time for that later," I whispered, but pecked him again anyway. "I missed you so much."

"You have no damn idea how much I missed you," he whispered back, nuzzling his face on my own.

"Buckle up, lovebirds. We're rolling out," Dwight said from the front passenger seat. "Everly, stay low until we're past the gates."

"Seriously, if you guys start steaming up the windows, I will slam on these breaks and send your asses through the windshield."

"Shawn's only kidding, Everly," Alan patted my shoulder as I buckled myself in. "He's been bitter ever since Sarah told his ass 'see ya'."

"Man, fuck that ho," Shawn said as he turned over the ignition. "Bitch was crazy anyway."

"Sarah? Cute, perverted, blonde-haired Sarah?" I asked.

Shawn regarded me through the review mirror. "You know her?"

"She's my friend," I said with a chastising grin. "So be careful about what you say about her."

"Oh, oops. My bad," Shawn apologized.

Dwight looked between us with a sarcastic grin on his face. "Just drive the truck, genius, before we get caught. Everly, zip it and keep your head down."

"Yes, sir," I rolled my eyes. I looked over to catch Daryl watching me, and I bit my lip with a blush. He grabbed my hand in response, squeezing my fingers between his.

"Smile like that at me again and we'll be flyin' through that damn windshield," he whispered in my ear and I shivered, feeling a tight heat spread in my belly.

I wanted so badly to rip off my seatbelt and straddle his lap, but my carnal urges would have to wait until later - much, much later – and I groaned inwardly, squeezing his hand back. Our heated gazed simmered as we came up to the gates, and I put my head down, keeping my face under the darkness of my hood. Thankfully, the guards on watch opened the gate without much of an exchange and we were rumbling forward again. As soon as we were past, I sat up and looked back; fully expecting sirens to sound off and giant spotlights to follow us down the road, but there was nothing. I started to laugh.

"We actually made it out," I remarked breathlessly and beamed at Daryl.

"Yeah, but we're not out of the woods yet," Dwight piped up. "Let's hope Negan doesn't notice you're missing until we're long gone."

"But we still got those fucks at the end of the line to worry about," Shawn reminded us.

"What's the plan on that, D?" Alan asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"Just keep driving for now. Let's get as far away as possible before we make a move."

"What about them keepin' tabs?" Daryl spoke up, and he rubbed his thumb on the back of my hand. "Do ya think they'll be radioin' in to Negan?"

Dwight turned to us, his expression clearly telling us he was already worried about that. "It's likely, but I don't think Negan is that paranoid. As long as we don't raise suspicion, then they'll have no reason to contact him."

"What happens when they notice the random chick who happens to be his wife tagging along with us?" Shawn threw out, but that had been a tremulous red flag waving in everyone's face from the start.

"I say we go ten miles down and pull over. Tell 'em something's wrong with the truck. When they get out, we'll ambush them." Alan observed everyone's reaction to his idea.

"I don't know. Might not play out like we hope," Shawn countered.

"What other option is there?" I asked.

"We do what I told Negan we were gonna do." Dwight stared out of the windshield, watching the headlights illuminate the passing road before us. "Go back to central outpost."

"But what about the Kingdom? Somerset?" Alan asked

"And what about them?" Shawn inclined his head toward Daryl and me.

Dwight thought a moment and silence sat heavily between all of us. I was starting to become nervous again. The chance of Negan catching wind of our escape before we'd barely made it out had my stomach doing barrel rolls.

"Fuck, okay," Dwight finally spoke, massaging his forehead. "We continue like we're going to central, but stop near where the tail end of the horde should be. It'll be dangerous, but if we make enough noise, they'll be a good distraction. And like Alan said we'll attack while they're unaware…"

"Like cowards," Shawn scoffed and shook his head.

"If we blow this and they radio Negan, we'll be fucked," Dwight reasoned, his tone beginning to harden. He placed his full attention on me. "Everly, you have to stay in the truck the entire time. Do not get out for any reason. If one of them comes up, look away and ignore them."

I didn't like the idea of having to wait while everyone else risked their necks for me, but it might be the best idea. I glanced at Daryl for reassurance and his fingers tightened around mine. I nodded my head with an okay.

"We'll have to backtrack, so everyone move swiftly when it's time and don't hesitate. Remember," Dwight matched each pair of eyes with a pointed look, "they're the enemy, too."

"Just doesn't feel right," Shawn mumbled, but we all heard him.

I understood what he meant. It was a weak move to strike a man when he wasn't looking - especially when it came to taking away their life. Every person in this world deserved a fighting chance no matter how demented or cruel they were. We all lived in a special corner of hell; more now than ever. It was just that some had lived there longer; their souls ripped apart and crudely sewn back together if at all. It had left them as monsters: hateful, shameless, forsaken… But they were still human, and while their humanity may be buried too deep to recover, that didn't mean ours were lost. I still had mine.

"Maybe we can abandon them," I suggested and the four men listened. "Get them out of their truck, and while they aren't looking, one of us will take it. It's not exactly murder, and by the time they even step foot near the Sanctuary, we'll have already struck… We can even leave them a bag of food to assuage any guilt."

Dwight snorted. "Were you a saint in a past life? Who gives a shit if they have food or not. We're starting a war, not dropping Fido off at the farm."

No one responded. The empty air was an implicit note of our opinion on Dwight's point of view. No one argued that he was wrong. We just didn't agree. He turned defensively, glaring at each of us in turn.

"You guys can't be fucking serious," he exclaimed. "There are so many things wrong with that idea that I don't even know where to start!"

"I know it isn't air-tight, but at least we won't be cold-blooded murders," I responded.

" _You_ won't be anything because you'll be in the fucking truck!" Dwight threw up his hands.

"I'd be an accomplice! That's no different!"

Dwight scoffed disbelievingly. "Don't act all innocent. You've been a killer since people started eating each other. Think about all of the events that led you to where your pretty little ass is sitting right now."

"Hey!" Daryl snapped. "We've all done what we had to. That don't make her no more a killer than a survivor."

"What's the fucking difference?" Dwight yelled, but shook his head, sighing. "Listen, I'm not trying to argue. I know you're searching for an altruistic solution, Everly, but we'll be leaving open too many loose ends if we keep them alive, and don't tell me that if the roles were reversed, they would give a damn about our lives…"

"That's not the point," I disagreed.

"It is," Dwight asserted, but his eyes softened. "I'm sorry, but we have to be smart… We have to _survive_ and if we let them live, we won't."

A quick rebuttal was lost on me, so I accepted his words reluctantly and frowned. We were starting a war, yes, but I was hoping the casualties would be minimal, and I certainly didn't want to be the start of them. It seemed I had no choice.

"It'll be okay," Daryl whispered, and I relished his warmth as he put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him. I rested my head against his chest.

"As long as I'm with you," I murmured as his heart beat under my ear in time with the thought of Lucille shining sharp and russet, splattering me with his blood.

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **Ugh... Sorry I'm late. I had a bit of writer's block, and I'm still not 100% on this chapter, but whatevs. THEY MADE IT OUT! Did you expect it to go that smoothly or nah? How far do you think they'll get? All the way or far enough to feel like they made it?**

 **In regards to last chapter, I didn't mean to write the Negan and Sherry scene as if he was beating the shit out of her. I was going for kink but it ended up more domestic violence-y, if that makes any sense...? I mean, her butt cheeks might be sore for the next day or two, but she's not gonna have a busted asshole or anything. And I left the belt part ambiguous on purpose to let your imaginations run wild. (I know. I'm a cuck, but this isn't a Negan and Sherry story!) He could've simply dropped it on the floor, or maybe he had her spanking him with it. Ooooh, dirty! It was also a good opportunity to show just how frustrated Negan is with Everly. He wants to have the most intimate parts of her, but she's keeping that shit locked up tight. So, he let that pent up steam out in a way that would leave him satisfied long enough until he gets what he's been patiently *wink wink* waiting for...**

 **On a scale from 1 to scorch the entire planet, how utterly pissed will Negan be when he realizes he won't be getting what he wants? :X**

 **P.S. Thank you to my guest reviewers! Yes, Negan planned that whole going away present very well, the rascal.**


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

Nearly an hour had passed and we were coasting through the darkness at a steady speed. We'd had a few slow-downs here and there with debris and the occasional wandering dead in the road, but the farther we went, the more relaxed I became. I wanted to hold my head out of the window and let the cool air flow through my hair as I grabbed the wind in empty handfuls, but that wasn't an option. Instead, I chose to express my happiness by snuggling against Daryl, relishing his solidity next to me and breathing in his scent. That was how I knew this was real every time it started to feel like a dream.

"Shawn, pull over here," Dwight spoke, and the slowing of the truck broke my attention from Daryl.

"Why're we stopping?" I asked, sitting up to look around at our surroundings. There was nothing but dark woods highlighted by dim moonlight.

"We're getting nearer to central," Dwight informed, "but if something goes wrong, I don't want our absence to hinder things. I'm gonna direct Trevor to the Kingdom and we'll continue on."

"What about the goons following us?" Alan questioned.

"I'll tell them that the horde is nearby and Trevor is circling around to create another opening while we divert what's ahead."

"Seems reasonable," Shawn commented as he brought the truck to a rolling stop in the road. "Let's hope they buy it."

Without hesitation, Dwight jumped from the truck and marched to the one parked directly behind us. A short conversation was exchanged and soon Trevor was turning around, passing the last truck in the line that sat in the middle of the road, its beams shining inside ours like two lit harbingers. I quickly sat forward and studied the deserted road ahead, hoping I hadn't been too obvious or suspicious.

Up front, Shawn rolled down his window and the night air rolled in crisp, clean, and silent. I glanced sideways at Daryl, meeting his deep, blue gaze, and we listened for the short exchange between Dwight and Negan's Savior.

"There a fuckin' reason why he just flipped around and hauled ass out of here?" A deep, distant voice inquired, and we heard Dwight's faraway response not a second later.

"Trevor's circling around. He's gonna scout out the area on the west side and let us know how crowded it is while we clear the east. If there are still a lot of the dead hanging about, we'll lead them to a quarry not too far away. That'll take care of a chunk of them and get us inside the outpost to get some rest for tomorrow."

"Well, I don't see any damn dead shits fuckin' around. It's as quiet as a goddamn monk's house out here."

"Actually, monks live in temples-" Alan whispered sarcastically, but Shawn promptly shushed him, and the tail end of Dwight's response drifted through the window.

"-I'm making sure we're prepared so no more of us die pointlessly. Is that shit alright with you or do you want to waste some more time arguing about it?"

"I guess you're leadin' this shit. Be nice if we were in on what the fuck was going on before shit happens, is all," the Savior responded. "Why don't you use that walkie on your hip more often. Kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes, instead of wasting time doing shit like _this_."

"I'll do that." Dwight's drifting comment was thrown over his shoulder as he stomped back to us.

"You think they bought it?" Shawn asked as he rolled up his window and Dwight swung into his seat.

"Seemed to." He shut his door and checked the side mirror. "Let's get going, but drive slowly. That'll give Trevor more time to get to the Kingdom, and maybe I can think of a way to not expose or get ourselves killed."

"Don't sound too optimistic," Shawn replied as he shifted into gear and we lurched forward with glaring headlights looming at our backs.

* * *

"Lane to Negan."

The walkie on the mahogany desk crackled, and the requested man left his spot by the window to scoop it up.

"What have you got?" Negan responded and waited.

"We've split up." The Savior's answer was short-lived as the walkie fizzled.

Negan grew impatient and returned to his window to gaze out of the murky panes. The walkie was on a low traffic channel, one that was rarely used due to its spotty frequency to maintain confidentiality. The Sanctuary leader didn't usually have to keep tabs on his people, especially one of his high ranking officers, but something had been niggling at his gut since Dwight's unceremonious return. He couldn't stop the dubiety that had unraveled as he listened to his second-hand man's story, and his thoughts had traveled to the many communities under his control, fixing on one audacious town in particular that had threatened to unspool the security he'd worked his ass off for.

Did a traitor stand beside him, feeding him lies like a wolf in sheep's wool? Negan didn't like that. He didn't like it one damn bit, but he kept himself leveled and prevented rash accusations. Bad decisions were uncomely, and it wouldn't do to assume Dwight's guilt without evidence. So, he set up a test; one to measure Dwight's loyalty and faithfulness. And the test itself was really fairly simple: Dwight would follow through on his task; nothing more or less. And the group of Saviors Negan sent along would see that the job was done. He hoped his lieutenant would pass without incident, but he didn't set positivism too high. He rarely did.

So in preparation for a failing result, Negan had prepped a large sum of men for an on-call mission, requesting they be ready to go at a moment's notice. He'd been vague with his requisition, not wanting to draw too much inquiry into the event if it turned out to be a wasted effort. Not only would it affect morale but it would shine a negative light on him as a leader. How would his soldiers view him if he came across as paranoid? Insecure? Keeping tabs on Dwight was safer, and Negan was primed if his unsought doubt proved real.

The walkie crackled, white noise spiking before Lane's garbled voice emerged.

"-said he'd circle 'round the west side while we took the east. Apparently, there's a quarry nearby he wants to dump the dead."

"You're with Dwight?" Negan walked back to his desk to pour a glass of whiskey.

"Yeah," Lane simply answered.

"How large is the horde?"

"Well-" Lane's voice broke into static but then immediate smoothed "-seein' much yet. Could be the lot of 'em moved on by now."

Negan considered the possibility that the crowd of shuffling dead had dispersed and deemed it likely. In subtle relief, he brought the radio up to his mouth and inquired, "Anything else?"

"Can we have a headcount on Dwight's men?"

"A headcount?" Negan's glass of amber stopped mid-air.

"Yeah," Lane croaked back, "wasn't there supposed to be only ten of them? I think there's someone else in the pick-up with 'em."

"What do you mean?" The glass of whiskey thumped on the desk as Negan went around it, yanking his jacket off of the back of his chair and slipping it on his shoulders.

"The van we followed had six men inside. Dwight has four with him. Last I checked before we left, there were only ten of them total."

"Where are you?" Negan asked as he grabbed Lucille and strode toward the door.

"Comin' up on central. Maybe a good twenty miles or so out."

"Stall them, but stay quiet, and keep me updated," Negan ordered as he flung open his door. "If anything new happens, I want to fucking hear it, and find out who the eleventh person is a.s.a.p. I'm on my way to you guys now."

"Yes, si-" Static cut in and drowned Lane's voice.

Negan wanted to flip to the main channel for a less garbled feed, but it would have to do for now despite how much it irritated the pure piss out of him. Dwight couldn't learn that he'd be joining them shortly. If this turned out to be a much bigger situation that what Negan was led to believe, he needed the upper-hand on Dwight, and keeping him in the dark was currently the best approach.

"Fuck!" Negan's yell bounced off the walls as he marched down the empty hallways, searching for his right-hand man.

A familiar face rounded the corner in front of him, and he grabbed the Savior by one shoulder, forcing her to remain standing.

"Find Simon and Bill and tell them we're leaving in fifteen goddamn minutes. Now!"

Arat nodded mutely, hurrying off in the supposed direction of his men. Negan assumed most of them might be waiting for the call to go, so he left her to the job while he strode towards the garages, wracking his brain over who the eleventh person might be. In all probability it was another man Dwight had propositioned at the last minute, but Negan wasn't totally buying that. Dwight had seemed pretty secure in his chosen number of men, saying that it wouldn't take many to wrangle the walking dead and move them farther north - especially since they were suppose to stop by the surrounding smaller outposts to acquire more help. But as Negan contemplated that, he realized he hadn't heard a fucking peep from anyone in that area since Dwight had come back.

Something wasn't right, and Negan stopped mid-step, a sudden feeling of foolishness turning his blood to steam. He glared down at the walkie in his hand, picturing a half-scarred face smiling in the passing dark, mocking him from a distance.

His grip tightened on Lucille, the leather of his glove squeaking against her polished spine. He closed his eyes, willing himself to find a shred of sanity through the igniting anger, but when he opened them he only saw red. He was going to catch up with Dwight and ask what the exact fuck he was up to. And after Negan squeezed the truth out of him, his best girl would place a much belated kiss to the side of his ruined cheek, and if she was feeling particularly thirsty, he'd let her take care of the country asshole, too.

He imaged their heads caving in; their blood and tissue coating his girl. _His_ beautiful girl.

And a moment of stark clarity hit Negan, his eyes widening with sudden understanding. He spun on his heel and ran to the stairwell, bounding up the steps three at a time. He burst into his private hallway and dashed up to Everly's door, flinging it open brusquely and flipping on the lights. His eyes scanned the still room and landed on her disheveled bed.

Empty. Her room was empty.

She was the eleventh person. There was no need to check anywhere else in the Sanctuary; he knew that it was her.

Lucille swung into a shelf by the door and it splintered from the force, little trinkets and books falling to the floor in disarray. She twirled in a violent frenzy, wielded by her wrathful master, and she followed his commands without question, devoting herself entirely to his fury. It was her purpose, her duty, and she could never deny him her body. Her soul was his.

Negan didn't stop until he was out of breath and Lucille was a vibrating agent in his hands. The room lay in shambles; not one piece of furniture had been able to escape his wired lady, but he didn't feel near satisfied. Rage was scorching a path through his veins and it burned him alive. The only way he'd be able to extinguish the flames would be to extinguish the lives of those who had wronged him.

He gazed down at the radio clipped to his belt, tempted to press the black button on the side and let a drawn out silence be the archangel of his intentions, setting a stage of disquiet and distress to consume them. They would understand the implication, but where would the fun be in giving them a clue? If they wanted to be hunted, he was more than happy to oblige them, but they weren't going to get a second head start.

"I'm coming for you, little pigs," Negan whispered to himself as a sinister laugh filtered through the ruins of the room.

* * *

"Goddamn it, where're those greasy fucks when you fucking need them? They're a pain in the ass when you're fighting for your life, but when you actually need the rotten shit sacks, it's like they scuttled under some fucking rocks," Dwight cursed and hit the dashboard. He rolled down his window and the cool air ripped his lank hair back. "Fresh meat wagon coming through, you assholes! We've got four slabs up for grabs!"

"Dwight, what the fuck are you doing?" Alan asked and Dwight rolled his window back up.

"I'm trying to conjure up a fucking diversion," he answered and sat back. "The horde must've moved faster than I thought they would. A few were still wandering around here when we left."

"So, what's gonna happen?" Daryl sat forward. "We just gonna roll up to central and not a fuckin' thing is out of place?"

"What do you mean?" I was confused. "Didn't you say the horde attacked the outposts?"

Dwight looked back at me and then at Daryl, a knowing look passing between the two that had me feeling left out.

"There was one, but it didn't attack the outposts. _We_ did while the majority of the Saviors were gone fixing the issue. It wasn't too complicated to take care of the rest them," Dwight revealed and my eyebrows shot up in surprise.

I processed the information quickly. "And Negan has no clue? Aren't there other outposts around here?"

"Not anymore. I used the mass as a guise for killing Negan's men. It wasn't that hard to follow through, and we only needed the lie to last until we were out of the Sanctuary." Dwight threw a cocky smirk back at me. "And where are we at right now?"

"So, how did you know about the location of horde then?"

Dwight sighed, but indulged me. "We heard the stress call around the area. Most men in the outposts will leave to lead the dead away while a few remain behind to look after shit. I saw an opportunity to get things rolling, so I did. We killed those who stayed and followed the others' trail. Killing them wasn't hard. It's easy to be Judas when no one suspects you and they're already surrounded by the enemy."

I was impressed. "Damn."

Dwight let out a single laugh, and spoke to Daryl, "We're not going that far, though. We don't have time."

"Well, we gotta do something," Shawn responded. "We're not too far away."

A pensive look crossed Dwight's face, washing away his look of pride. We sat in short silence before flashing lights at our backs grabbed our attention.

"The fuck?" Shawn squinted at the review mirror as the Saviors behind us continued to flash their lights followed by honking their horn.

"What the hell are they doing?" Alan turned around in his seat to look back.

"Tryin' to get us to pull over," Daryl answered, looking back as well.

"Should we?" Shawn turned to Dwight who sat indecisive for a moment.

"Everyone has their guns ready?" Dwight asked and was answered with three yeses. "Then sto-"

"Oh, shit!" Shawn exclaimed and slammed on the brakes.

I was sent forward against my seatbelt, the strap digging painfully into my gut as Daryl's arm held my chest back. Through the windshield, I saw what had startled Shawn so badly. There were maybe fifty or more walking dead ambling about down the road, the truck headlights capturing their sights and drawing them forward like moths to a distant flame.

"Well," Shawn muttered, "here's the group of rotten shit sacks you were looking for earlier."

Dwight cut him a sharp look, but I could see the panic behind his eyes.

"Fuck," Alan said as he leaned into the back of Dwight's seat. "I wasn't expecting this many."

"Shut up and get ready. We're gonna kill the asshole behind us quickly and get the fuck out of here." Dwight unbuckled his seatbelt and slung Daryl's crossbow over his shoulder. "Everly, stay in the truck. If it gets messy, do not hesitate to run. We'll leave the keys in the ignition."

I creased my brows in disbelief and looked to Daryl. Leave? Alone? He grabbed my face and kissed me deeply.

"You ain't running alone. I promise you that."

"Please, be careful," I told him, not wanting him to let me go. He kissed me again as the others exited the truck.

"I will," he said, and followed suit, shutting me inside a cage of metal and glass.

* * *

Lane slammed on his brakes just in time miss the back of Dwight's truck, skidding to the left and coming to a screeching stop before he plowed headfirst into a ditch.

"Motherfucker! What the hell?"

Lane took a moment for his heart to sink back down into his chest before putting the truck in reverse and backing up. He straightened it out in the middle of the road and recognized immediately why they had stopped so abruptly. Not five hundred feet away was a group of dead walkers coming right for them. He cursed again and addressed the men with him.

"Get out and figure out what the hell Dwight wants to do. I'm gonna radio into Negan."

The men followed his orders, stepping out of their vehicles just as Dwight and his group did, too. All except one, and Lane turned on his brights to better see who had stayed behind in the truck. He couldn't exactly tell. They were wearing a hoody that covered their head and they sat forward, unmoving.

"Turn off your fucking brights, asshole, and get out and help us!" Dwight's muffled voice was impatient.

He flipped off the brights and grabbed the walkie from the cup holder by his side.

"Lane to Negan."

"Go ahead." His leader's response was immediate which Lane was grateful for.

"We've come upon a problem. There's about fifty or so walkers closing in on us. We haven't quite made it to central yet, but we're probably ten miles out now."

"Who the fuck is in the truck with him?" Negan's voice was tepid, but Lane sensed a bound anger struggling for freedom underneath his tone.

"I'm not sure yet, sir, but I'm about to find out," Lane responded, eyeing the silhouette from the vehicle in front of him.

"I think one of my sweet wives ditched my sorry ass for some loser hick dick-fuck... Find out if she's the one playing stowaway in that truck, Lane, and I might promote you to be my new second-hand man."

Lane felt a second of surprise at the possibility that the veiled person could be one of Negan's wives, and there was no way in hell he was passing up such a generous offer. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I'm on it."

"And Lane," Negan said, but static music played through the walkie, masking his last words.

"No! Dammit!" He yelled and bashed the walkie in his hand and pressed the button. "I lost you, sir. Could you repeat that?"

"I sure can," Negan responded with an acerbic smile heating his words. "You let any of them get away… I'll break both of your kneecaps and run over your fucking head."

Lane looked down at the radio, not expecting that sort of response but heeding it fully. He swallowed, moistening his drying throat as he looked forward to see his men being surrounded by Dwight's. What exactly was going on here? He knew Dwight must be up to something, but he didn't know the man had balls big enough to steal one of Negan's wives…again.

"You just don't learn, do ya?" Lane shook his head at the slender man in the road who argued with those around him.

The timing was perfect as Lane slowly popped open his door and slipped out, shutting it softly. He kept his eyes on the group to his right, trying not to garner too much attention from them as they discussed who would do what with the approaching accumulation of walkers. The men didn't seem to notice his presence as he slipped up to the left side of Dwight's truck, and Lane came to a stop at the back passenger door, peering inside the window but unable to tell who was hiding under the black hood that covered their head. The click on the truck door opening caught their attention and a pair of wide green eyes set in a startled, pretty face met his before his head was slammed forward.

He bit his lip, a stabbing pain causing him to crying out as the taste of copper hit his tongue. Strong hands held him against the truck door, pinning his left arm behind his back and yanking his wrist up between his shoulder blades. He groaned from the pressure and instinctively pressed the button on the walkie in his right hand. It was pinned between his leg and the door, but there was a chance Negan might be able to hear the commotion.

"Let go of me!" Lane yelled, heaving bloody spit against the window he was pressed against. "You have Negan's wife! I see her! I see her right fucking now!"

"Shut up!" A voice roared in his ear and Lane recognized it as the one belonging to the redneck Negan had humiliated earlier.

"She's right here!"

Daryl didn't waste any more words on the belligerent man. He reared back a fist and slammed it into the side of his face one, two, three times until he went limp. He let him fall to the ground in a moaning heap, the walkie bouncing out of his hand and skidding on the pavement, a lone assurance that all their worst fears were beginning to pile on top of each other.

"They're fucking here!"

Shots rang through the air and Daryl ducked, whipping the truck door open and diving over Everly. She whimpered into his chest as a window busted over them, blanketing them with shards of glass. Daryl wanted to sit up and see who was shooting who; if they had won or should run. And as the gunfire ceased, he lifted his head up to see Dwight and Alan, but not Shawn. The others were nowhere to be seen.

"They're closing in on us!" Alan shoved Dwight as a walker gnashed at the air where he'd just been standing.

They ran to the truck, diving through the passenger door and Alan slid over to the driver's seat.

"Oh my God, Shawn. They fucking killed Shawn," he wept.

"We have to get the fuck out of here! Drive!" Dwight yelled at him, shooting walkers that were getting closer.

"Alan!" Everly screamed as the groans and growls of the dead increased through the busted window.

A single gunshot rang out as a spurt of red sprayed the inside of the cabin. Alan slumped forward, his large chest hitting the steering wheel and setting off an incessant stream of noise from the horn. Dwight sat back shocked as a swollen faced peered through the driver's side window.

"You stupid fucks aren't goin' anywhere."

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **There was a snowstorm in my area two weekends ago. We got about a foot of snow. It was the most damn snow I've ever seen in my entire life. A bunch of tree limbs fell in my back yard- HUGE ones. Then, an actual tree fell down and smashed my neighbor's fence and is now chilling out in his back yard. And we had no power...**

 **But all is well now. It's sixty degrees out and most of the snow has finally melted, so we'll be okay. Everything will be okay now. Until the sky rains down white demon ice fire on us again! Seriously, though, snow is beautiful, but it was scary sitting in the dark and listening to loud crash after crash because all of the trees in the neighborhood couldn't take the weight of the snow.**

 **This chapter was rushed because I hated having to wait so long to get it out! I am not coherent during the week to write whatsoever. My threshold for staying alert/awake dramatically plummets after 4 pm. It's stupid. And if it ever takes this long again to post, don't think I've given up. This story will have an ending! I promise you. But sometimes life gets in the way.**

 **Speaking of stupid, that's how the mid-season finale ended from what I heard. I won't go into details for those of you who haven't seen the show yet (or have relatives who _can_ keep their mouths shut unlike mine...), but wow... When I finally watch this season, I'll be going in disappointed. Bleh.**


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59**

"Lane, you're gonna get us all killed, including yourself!" Dwight yelled at the Savior, his blood speckled face panicked.

"I know what the fuck I'm doin'," Lane replied as he sidestepped the swipe of a walker and bludgeoned it with this butt of his gun. Another one went for him, but he jumped back just in time to avoid it.

"Doesn't look like it!" Dwight called as a walker came up to his open window and grabbed his collar. "Shit!"

As Dwight jerked away, Daryl lunged for it, producing a knife from his back pocket and sinking it into its temple. The dead body slumped, its shoulders and head still inside of the truck, but others were starting to form behind it and as I looked to the busted window above my head, gnarled, rotted hands reached for me.

"Daryl!"

His knife plunged into the nearly skinless head and it fell from the window, but it was soon replaced by another.

Dwight grabbed Alan and yanked him up against his seat. Without the pressure from his chest, the horn finally quieted, but it was a little too late for it to matter. We were already surrounded and being hunted. Daryl was busy clearing our window, and there wasn't much I could do to help as he knelt over me, his legs straddling my chest.

"He's letting them swarm us!" Dwight shot an arrow and reloaded. "The fucker ran back to his truck!"

Daryl fatally stabbed a walker reaching through the window. "And you're fuckin' surprised?"

"Here." Dwight shoved Daryl's crossbow in his arms. "Keep them back while I get us the fuck out of here."

Daryl took it without hesitation, but slung it around his back and continued using the knife instead. The more bodies he stabbed, the more they piled up outside of our window and the others were struggling over their fallen comrades to reach us. While he worked, Dwight maneuvered Alan's body out of his way, pushing him to slump sideways in the passenger seat against the dead walker hanging from the window. I wasn't happy that he was gone, but I was thankful Lane's bullet had hit its mark in the head; it saved us the horror and Alan his dignity.

The truck roared to life and Dwight quickly threw it in reverse. Daryl held onto the seat as we rocketed back and one walker was knocked brutally to the asphalt. The one in the passenger window managed to dangle, but as we rammed into Lane's truck, it jolted violently and fell away.

"Take that, you piece of shit coward," Dwight sneered as he gazed into the review mirror.

"He's not in there," Daryl commented with vigilant eyes, scouring every direction. I tried to sit up but his heavy hand pushed me back onto the seat. "Stay down."

"I want to help," I argued.

"No." His answer was curt, but his eyes widened with recognition and he took the crossbow off of his back and aimed. "Don't move or I'll shoot ya!"

I watched Daryl's eyes move as his finger pulled the trigger. The arrow sang as it cut neatly through the air and a distant yelp told me it had met its target.

"He's got an Uzi!"

Daryl ducked down just in time as metal rained on us. He flattened himself on me, covering my head with his hands, but as soon as the assault began it ended.

"Don't fuckin' shoot me!" Lane's enraged voice echoed. "This isn't for you, so let me do my fuckin' job, you assholes!"

Then the Uzi was raging again, but not at us. Daryl chanced to look up and I examined his reaction. Lane must be shooting the small horde.

"Why the fuck didn't you kill him?" Dwight asked as he watched the bullets slice through the soft bodies.

"I thought I did," Daryl replied. "I hit someone else."

"Fuck," Dwight sighed. "It's like they fucking knew it was coming. I killed one and I thought Alan got another, but the third guy shot Shawn before he could react, and when the bullets started flying, he ran off."

"Well, it's just Lane now," Daryl said and aimed the bow, but the truck lurched forward. "The hell?"

"We're getting the fuck out of here." Dwight was hunched over the steering wheel and he pulled a sharp one-eighty.

"We can't leave him alive!"

"With as much fucking noise as he's making, he won't be alive for long. He doesn't have limitless ammo, and his truck is fucked," Dwight replied, accelerating back the way we had come.

Metal rained on us again and there was a loud pop as the back left side of the truck dipped down. I grabbed onto Daryl as Dwight cursed, leaning further forward as he pressed hard on the pedal, but another pop resounded and the entire back side of the truck was on the ground.

"Shit!"

We fishtailed, the loss of two tires destabilizing the vehicle. Dwight tried to ease it to a stop, but we'd been going too fast, and the truck skidded, spinning out into a ditch. We landed at a thirty degree angle, the right side of the truck flat against the embankment while the left was suspended in the air, hovering above the ground. And my head was fucking killing me.

"Fuck," Dwight groaned, and then gasped.

"Everly?" Daryl pushed against the door we landed against and I did the same, trying to get upright. "Hold on."

He got to his knees and took my arms, sitting me up. My eyes roved over his body, looking for any mortal wounds, and I found he was doing the same. When we both came up empty, our sights met in relief and I wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Dwight to Trevor." The walkie warbled in his hand. "We've been compromised, but we're alive… Send someone to meet us where we split up, and in the meantime, proceed with the plan. We'll be on foot, but we'll try to make it there. Over."

He looked back at us. "Everyone alright?"

"Yes," I mumbled from Daryl's chest. He ran a hand over my head and I gasped as a sharp pain radiated through the back of my skull.

"What is it?" Daryl pulled away, concerned.

"My head," I mumbled, touching the spot tenderly. "I must've hit it."

Daryl removed my beanie, and I hissed as his fingers ran over the sore flesh.

"Dammit, you've got a pretty big knot. Do you feel dizzy at all? Nauseous?"

"No. My head just hurts," I replied.

"What year is it?" Dwight asked from the front and I promptly told him to zip it.

"Just tell me if you're startin' to feel worse." I could see the concern on Daryl's face through the darkness. He tugged me up the seat toward the door. "Come on. We gotta get outta here before we're trapped."

He pushed open the door, but Dwight stopped him.

"Don't forget this," he said, holding up the crossbow.

I grabbed it from him, slinging it over my shoulder, and turned back to Daryl, taking his hands as he pulled me out of the wreckage.

"Stay low. He's still up there," he whispered angrily as Dwight emerged behind me, and the three of us crouched in the ditch.

"You're not goin' any-fucking-where! I told you!" Lane's echoing voice was followed closely by the rat-a-tat from the Uzi.

Dwight peeked over the edge of the ditch. "You guys go. The dead are closing in on him and they'll be heading this way soon."

"He'll kill you." I grabbed his arm, tugging it so he'd look down at me.

"Not if I kill him first." Dwight smiled slightly. "Or the walkers. Either one."

"Be careful," Daryl told him, taking my hand and pulling me away.

"I won't be too far behind you."

Dwight waited while Daryl dug his bag out from the wreckage. When he found it, Dwight nodded us off and we rounded the truck, staying low to avoid detection and stray bullets from Lane's Uzi. I tried to focus on my surroundings and keeping one foot in front of the other, instead of the pain in my head, but in doing so I heard Dwight try to reason with the crazed Savior, telling him they could work together to destroy the horde. As we entered the woods I heard a chorus of shots, and I didn't dare look back to see where the bullets went. I held on tightly to Daryl's hand and let him lead me away from the chaos.

* * *

My toes and fingers were numb, my legs and eyelids heavy. I wanted to stop walking and sit down, fall asleep against a tree, but I couldn't. We couldn't stop. There was danger in every direction, and we'd be signing our death sentence if we didn't keep going. But I wanted to rest.

"I don't know how much farther I can go."

I didn't want to whine, but exhaustion had crept up my limbs and nestled itself between my ears, and my head continued to throb. It wasn't worse than before which was good, but the persistent ache and high stress of the night had worn me down.

"I know, but we don't have much farther to go. You still feeling alright?" Daryl stopped to face me, cupping my face in worry.

"I feel horrible," I responded honestly, "but I don't think it's all attributed to my head injury."

He kissed me softly. "We're almost there. Keep goin'."

He took my hand again and lead me through the woods, our feet crunching on dead leaves as we passed through the silence. The night was dark but illuminated by a full moon lighting our way. I only grew slightly more anxious when clouds drifted past; deadening the silver highlights which gave me the only indication that we weren't walking straight into danger.

Daryl knew when panic started to grow in me. He'd draw me to his side and lock my arm under his and keep us moving. The terror would eventually melt away by the warmth he lent me. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to bring me back down. I was thankful for that; thankful for him. If I'd been on my own again, I might've given up and lied down next to a tree; let its roots wrap me up and take me under. But Daryl gave me a reason to push on.

"There," he whispered and squatted, pulling me down with him. He pointed, dragging my attention to a block of trees in the distance.

"What?" I was confused and scared all over again.

"That light." He continued to point, but I barely saw it. My nails started to dig into his knuckles.

"You mean that tiny pinprick a thousand feet away?"

"Yes. Someone's there. Might be someone we know or someone we don't."

"Might be someone we don't want to see. Let's not go there," I ventured further.

Daryl cast me an agreeing sideway glance. "It might be one of ours. We'll move up slow and scope it out. If we see something or someone we don't like, we'll go."

"What if they see us first?" I dared to ask and shivered.

"They won't."

I glanced back at the tiny point of twinkling light, fully unprepared for what we would find there. Everything inside of me was telling me to run the opposite way, but my instincts hadn't always been on cue. Daryl must've sensed my unease because he slid his hand from my own and took my face again.

" _Nothin'_ will happen to you. I'll murder every motherfucker out here before they get to you. You understand me?"

I nodded and pulled him close; hugging him to me like it would be the last time.

"I love you," I whispered in his hair.

"I love you," he returned, pulling back to place his lips on my own.

When we parted I was breathless and heartbroken. The dramatic change from excited optimism to absolute dread was overwhelming. There had always been the high possibility of tonight going wrong, but this was supposed to finally be a win for us. I wanted it so badly, but I was already experiencing the loss.

"Let's go."

He stood up, bringing me with him. I nearly refused to let him go before realizing how childish I was being. We hadn't been captured yet and we were a long way from the Sanctuary. We didn't have a vehicle, but we were also less of a target now. The trick was staying in the shadows and not dying from exposure or a random walker that happened to be stumbling by.

I walked quietly next to Daryl as we followed the light. He was tense the closer we got, but I trusted his judgment entirely. I fell behind him, allowing him the freedom to get closer to the road before I moved forward. I crouched when he did, closing my eyes and placing my fingertips to the forest floor as my heartbeat swayed me with its erratic rhythm. This was it.

"It's Trevor," Daryl revealed and I became lightheaded with relief.

He came to me, supporting my weight as he ushered me out of the trees and to the waiting car.

"Where the fuck is Dwight? Alan and Shawn?" Trevor asked as he stepped out of the driver's seat.

"He's back there, alive or dead. I donno. And they're both dead." Daryl was short as he opened the back passenger door and put me inside.

"What?" Trevor demanded, appalled.

"Get in the car and drive," Daryl spat as he sat down next to me.

"So, Dwight's out there alone? We can't leave him," he began to argue, getting in the car.

"He told us to go ahead without 'im. We did."

"We'll go back then." Trevor put the car into drive and turned left.

Daryl leaned forward in his seat, irate. "There ain't nothin' down there but a pile of dead bodies. Everly is hurt. She needs a doctor now."

"It won't take long!" Trevor refused to turn around. "We just need to check. You fucking owe Dwight that much after all he's done for you."

Daryl was still angry, but didn't argue further. Trevor had a point, and while I was still on edge and high-strung, I felt safer in the confines of the car. And I was finally off of my feet. I could rest now. Maybe close my eyes…

"Everly!"

Hands shook my shoulders and I bolted up right, frightened.

"You have to stay awake. Don't go to sleep," Daryl cautioned, and I nodded automatically whilst trying to contain my bladder. He'd nearly scared the piss out of me.

We coasted down the road we'd already traveled once with the knowledge that only death waited for us at the end. The second time wouldn't be the charm, and nervousness was an invisible passenger by my side, holding me hostage.

 _But this night could be salvageable_ , I told myself.

Maybe Dwight killed Lane and managed to get away from the walkers, or maybe the walkers got Lane and saved Dwight the trouble; like he predicted. Maybe it didn't go that way at all and we were on our way to identify our dead friend. Whatever the outcome, I just hoped it ended with all of us at the Kingdom safe and sound.

"Is that…?" Trevor began to ask, but let his question drop.

I sat forward, following his and Daryl's sight to a lone figure emerging from the trees and limping to the middle of the road. Its head was down, one leg dead and dragging behind it. From a distance, I couldn't tell if it was a walker, but it was clearly a man with long, blond hair that could only be Dwight's.

Trevor accelerated forward, getting us closer but not quite coming up to the figure. The headlights illuminated his entire form and he was covered in blood from head to toe. Yet still, his head remained down and he dragged himself towards us in the same gimpy gait.

"I'm getting out to check," Trevor informed us and exited the vehicle.

He jogged up to him and held out his hand. The man stopped and tediously lifted his head, hair falling away from a scarred face. It was Dwight, and he was alive.

"Holy shit, he made it?" I wondered aloud.

Trevor grabbed Dwight's arm and helped him to the passenger door, but his heavy limp was somehow gone. The former Savior helped his friend inside the car and got back into the driver's seat, turning the car to finally head in the right direction.

"How the hell did you make it out of there?" Trevor asked what we were all thinking.

"I thought he killed you," I muttered, glad it wasn't true.

"He almost did." Dwight laughed with a cough. "Shot me pretty good. Don't think it's serious, though."

"Where?" Daryl demanded, and Dwight showed us his shoulder.

"Nothing vital, but it hurts like a fuckin' bitch."

"Only one bullet outta that Uzi hit you? Do you have nine fuckin' lives or somethin'?" Daryl jested and it set me pleasantly at ease. I smiled.

"Must be something like five now," Dwight retorted. "Mine hit that fucker in the head before he could do anymore damage, and then I hightailed it the fuck out of there."

"So… you didn't break your leg?" I was confused.

Dwight looked back at me. "Oh, no. That was all for show in case you turned out to be someone else. I didn't know whose car I was approaching, but if it wasn't you guys, I was putting this baby to use."

Dwight held up Lane's Uzi and I sat away from it immediately.

"Put that away before you hurt yourself or us."

"Keep your panties on. My finger isn't on the trigger."

"That don't mean shit," Daryl disagreed, but patted him on the shoulder lightly. "Glad you made it out."

"Me too, man. Glad you guys did, too."

We were coming back up to the junction where Trevor had initially picked us up when bright headlights suddenly rounded the bend in front of us, blocking our path.

"Oh, fuck!" Trevor slammed on the brakes.

"Reverse!" Dwight yelled and Trevor did, sending us flying backward, but the large truck in front of us was ready for that and accelerated up to our front bumper.

"Daryl," I whimpered, searching for him. He held onto me, keeping me close.

Another truck emerged from behind the one ahead of us, coming up to our side and blocking us in. I screamed as we were hit from the front and Trevor lost control, the steering wheel moving of its own accord as we spun out. We didn't hit a ditch this time, and thankfully there were no dramatic rolls or a debilitating crash into a tree. We skidded to a complete stop in the middle of the road where we were put on a spotlight by multiple vehicles, and I knew we were totally and utterly fucked.

I looked out my window, blinded by the brightness that glared back at me. A tall silhouetted figured strutted in front of the headlights, casting a large shadow in the space between us, and the weapon he held at his side was long and studded like a barbed wooden bat.

He whistled two notes; a faint, melodious tune that struck terror in me like no other. It seemed to sing, "I'm here."

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **I am working on posting regularly again starting today! I will try my hardest to have a chapter up every Monday until this story is finished. This one might have been a bummer, but there's always more! Do you think they're totally and utterly fucked or will they find a way out of it? I guess we will all see NEXT MONDAY! (Please, Lord. Please.)**

 **BlueMoon, my dad thoroughly enjoys spoiling shows for me, so I basically already know the first part of this season, lol. I'm definitely disappointed.**

 **Thanks to my guest reviewer. So much for them not getting captured, eh? Well, they're technically not captured yet. Just caught, but they could still get away! Keep your fingers crossed.**

 **P.S. I hope everyone had a good holiday and new year! Continue to stay safe and wish for bright things for 2018! Our world needs it! Much love.**


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter 60**

"Little piggies!" Negan sang ominously. "I see you! And you are fucked!"

I couldn't look away despite the burning wetness that blurred my vision. The lights were so bright, but I stared into the whiteness, lost in it. Negan's shadow remained perfectly still like a statue in the night, backlit and bold in the face of my fear. He had found us.

"Dwighty boy… You're running from me again?" Negan called to him, and he took one step as his umbra took one back. "If you wanted an out, all you had to do was ask for one. That would've been damn fucking dandy with me. I probably would've given it to you… But not only did you _not_ ask for one, you went behind my back and _took_ something from me. And one would think that you would have realized by now that you took the wrong damn one! What would poor Sherry think?"

I wasn't looking at Dwight, but I could feel the anger pulsing off of him. There were so many things he needed to say to Negan - to do to him - but now was not the time or place. Not when we were so critically outnumbered. I counted the men who stood around their leader, blocking the road with their vehicles and guns, and I thought about all the reawakened dead that creeped this way as we sat here, dumbstruck. There was no going around the Saviors and there was no turning back. We were trapped on both sides.

"You don't do that Dwight," Negan laughed bitterly. "You don't lie to my face and then take my wife with you. Not again!"

The end of his words imitated themselves, the robust energy in which they were spoken causing them to rebound off of the trees and circle back to us until they finally faded.

"Make this easy on yourselves, guys, and get out of the fucking car."

No one moved. We all sat stock still, glued to our seats, watching and waiting for an answer to our defiance. But I knew we couldn't sit here for long. We had to do something, and I finally tore my eyes away from Negan to find Daryl's and take his hand.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, but he shook his head, disagreeing with me.

"Don't force my fucking hand, people. You will not like what will happen if you do," Negan warned.

"Drive," Dwight said as he rolled down his window.

"And go where?" Trevor asked with incredulity in his voice. "They have weapons pointed at us!"

"They won't shoot to kill. And drive into the woods." Dwight winced as he leaned out of the open space of his door.

"What?! There are trees!"

"Now."

Regardless of his doubt, Trevor didn't hesitate. At Dwight's word, he swiftly put the car into drive and hit the gas, surging us back against our seats. Dwight just barely managed to hang on as he swung the Uzi on top of the car and let out a string of gunfire before ducking back in right as the tires left the pavement and we bumped into the woods. We wouldn't make it very far; the forest floor and scattering of numerous trees and boscage would prevent any projected travel, but it would make it hard for them to follow us in and maybe that meant we had a chance at losing them.

A returning fusillade chased us briefly through the dark and wooden stalks, bullets humming as they passed by or tinging as they hit our car. But not a second later, the barrage deceased and we ventured deeper into the woods until we reached the point where Trevor couldn't keep traction and we slid to a stop, stuck in a crowd of trees.

"Out," Dwight demanded and we followed his instructions.

Daryl took my arm, pushing me ahead of him as we all took off at a run, attempting to put as much distance between us and those at our backs as possible. The going was tough. A wooded area covered in thickets was not the best place to start a marathon and I lost my footing too many times to count. Gratefully, I had Daryl to keep me on my feet and encourage me to not stop, but I really didn't need it. The memory of Negan's stygian form standing out against blazing headlights was enough to fuel the terror that pressed me forward.

I could hear them behind us, shouting and revving their engines. Their movements were echoing sirens in my ears, warnings of the dangers that were encroaching upon us. I chose not to look back, not to think about what would happened if they caught up to us, and followed Trevor as he followed Dwight, never looking away from his back. Yet contemplations of how long it would take until we were surrounded - and there wasn't anywhere else for us to run - were a waking nightmare that I could not escape from.

* * *

"Dammit, don't shoot!" Negan yelled as he got back to his feet.

That lanky, scarred bastard had shot at them and one of his men was down with several gaping holes in his chest and throat. He didn't blame his Saviors for shooting back, but he preferred to catch Dwight and the whole group of them alive. And as extremely betrayed and hurt he felt by her, he didn't want to lose Everly. Not like this.

"Get your asses in the trucks!" He bellowed. "I want some of you in those fucking woods and the rest circling around these goddamn roads. Corner them and bring me back my damn wife without any fucking bullet holes in her. Keep the others alive, too."

His Saviors obeyed instantly, following their commander's orders without question. He watched a few men disappear into the woods, hot on his escapees' trail, while the others got back into their vehicles. He did the same, slamming the passenger door as Simon shimmied in the driver's seat. His secondhand man gave him an inquiring look.

"Let's wait here for a minute," Negan brooded, upset his wife had slipped away once more.

"They won't make it too far." Simon seemed confident in that fact. "There isn't anywhere for them to go."

"That we know of." Negan thought back to Alexandria, the downed trees, and how suspicious it had seemed. There'd be no way they would go there, and the location where they had been found was exactly where Dwight said they would be, but heading the opposite direction. But to where?

"Lane's probably dead," Simon spoke, his tone informing.

"So it fucking seems." Negan held up the walkie but didn't bother to page his informant. He'd heard the tail-end of Lane's discovery of Everly before the walkie cut out, and upon finding those he sought without their chaperones was telling of his former Savior's fate.

"What's gonna happen when we get 'em?" Simon asked, excitement pumping in his veins. He knew it would be something good.

Negan smirked at his friend as his sour mood faded a bit. "A fucking pig roast."

* * *

"Stop," Dwight said, and suddenly I was running into Trevor's back.

"Why're we stoppin'?" Daryl demanded.

"They're going to circle around us. Not give us a way out. If we split up, we'll have a chance."

"Split up? Why? Go where?" I looked around the darkness in disbelief. "Where the hell are we even at?"

"You guys will head east and we'll go west." Dwight ignored my outburst and pointed in the correlating directions as he spoke. "Since they're already headed the way we'll be going, we can keep them distracted before losing them. It'll be as easy as bating the dead."

"Yeah, we can try," Trevor agreed.

"Use the map I gave you if you get lost, but I trust you'll find your way."

Daryl patted the backpack that was slung over my shoulder. "We got what we need."

Dwight nodded. "It should be a pretty straight shot, and as long as you lose them, they won't know where you're going. Just stay east until you think you're in the clear and then head south, but be careful in the city. A lot of dead still roam there."

I shivered, trying not to believe we were in this mess. Daryl's fingers on my arm tightened at the motion, pulling me close.

"You'll hit the road we were just on, but if you go north a bit, you should avoid Negan's men."

"I got it," Daryl replied impatiently. "I know who's out there, and I'm gettin' her somewhere safe. You guys try to do the same."

"Good luck," Trevor wished us.

"We'll meet you there at dawn," Dwight assured.

Daryl started to pull me away, but I resisted and removed myself from his grasp. I couldn't leave without doing one final thing.

Dwight hissed as my arms encircled his neck and I automatically loosened by grip, mumbling a sorry as I continued to hold him to me. He wasn't my favorite person, and we didn't particularly get along, but I would be eternally grateful to him for risking his life to get us out of the Sanctuary and for keeping us from Negan. We weren't out of the woods yet, literally and figuratively, but he was the main reason we had made it this far, and if I never saw him again, if one or neither of us made it, I wanted him to know how much I appreciated his selflessness.

"Thank you," I muttered to him, tears choking my words.

Dwight patted my shoulder as he tenderly hugged me back. "You're welcome."

I pulled away, giving him one last bittersweet smile. "Be safe. See you in a few hours."

Dwight nodded, looking both bashful yet filled with pride at the same time. He playfully said, "I'm not doing it just for you, you know."

"I know. You're doing it for the right reasons," I agreed and returned to Daryl.

We parted ways then; the pack disbanding to confuse the enemy. It was difficult to hold much credence in Dwight's method when his first had already gone to shit, but I hadn't gotten this far just to give up now. My head was still light and a pounding ache was persistent in the back of my skull, but I kept myself focused and moved swiftly behind Daryl as we traveled north.

The woods were quiet. We had lost track of Negan's men not long after splitting off from Dwight and Trevor which signified that they were able to hold up their end of the plan, but Daryl told me the Saviors would figure out eventually that we weren't all together, and that pretty soon they wouldn't be too far behind us. Whether that meant our two friends were dead or captured, I didn't want to know, but the trick was to keep moving no matter what, so I did.

I turned the focus on myself as Daryl and I came up to the road; the road where we'd been discovered not once, but twice. He made me wait in the woods like before as he inspected the area up and down, staying hidden behind the darkness of the trees himself. When he felt it was clear, he beckoned me over and we crossed the asphalt at a run as the fingertips of an anxious chill ran up my spine.

Once under leafy canopies again, my nerves began to unbend, offering me a smidgeon of relief after this giant disaster of a night. It wasn't over yet, and every second we had to ourselves counted towards us making it out alive and unharmed. Daryl moved so swiftly. It was amazing to see him maneuver through the woods with such confidence and dexterity. I would've been lost ten times over already, a crying mess in the dark waiting to be found and eaten alive. That was a fear that needed no thought; it only distracted me.

Up ahead I heard a rapid rush, like a harsh breeze blowing through the leaves or…moving water. Daryl paused momentarily, discerning exactly where we were. He announced we must be a few miles north of the city and we'd have to cross the river up ahead. I wasn't keen on that idea. It was cold, dark, and I already felt like an ice cube.

"We'll find a way to not get wet," he offered, taking my hand in reassurance. "It ain't cold enough for us to get hypothermia, but I bet that water will be. If we happen to go in, we'll have to stay together, warm each other up and move as little as possible."

I looked in the direction of the water, not seeing it but knowing it wasn't far ahead. The process of finding a way across that would allow us to stay dry would take time, and I wasn't sure if I'd rather plunge in head first than take the risk of Negan finding us again.

"Is there a way to go around?" I asked hopefully.

"Not unless we go back to the roads," was his answer and that wasn't going to be an option.

With reluctance, I followed Daryl as he started forward, his steps precisely placed the closer we got to the river. As the woods began to thin, I noticed a pathway or – no, a dirt road. It was narrow, but wide enough for a vehicle to fit through and I could tell it was used. Moonlight lit the tracks which were not overgrown and I could see the shape of tire marks. This road had been used fairly recently.

"Must be an earthen road for the patrols," I gathered.

"Yeah, it's probably a shortcut," Daryl assented.

"Where?" I pondered and Daryl turned me away to access the bag on my back.

"Hold this."

He handed something dark and cylindrical to me. I took it and saw it was a flashlight, but waited for Daryl to instruct me to use it. He rummaged in the pack, producing a folded piece of paper that I realized was a map as he unfolded it. At his word, I clicked on the flashlight but immediately turned it off, startled by how bright it was. Daryl and I locked eyes before we each looked around our surroundings. Seeing and hearing nothing but water and wind, he nodded and I cupped my hands around the end of the torch and held it close to the paper, preventing the light from shining outward too far.

Daryl followed the lines of the map, indicating we were somewhere between the main highway and some other smaller surface roads. Roads that Negan and his men travelled to get to and from the Sanctuary.

"We're deep enough in that we won't be seen, but let's keep moving. Keep the flashlight in your pocket."

I clicked it off and did as he asked while he put the map away in the pack and zipped it up. He took my hand again and edged us to the dirt road, looking both ways before leading us across. A few hundred feet ahead revealed to us not quite what I expected. There was a river alright; a large, swollen one with very few sizeable rocks or boulders for us to cross on. And not only that, but we were on the edge of a cliff.

"Shit," Daryl mumbled as we watched the water frothing below our feet.

"What do we do?"

Daryl sighed and look across the tributary. "Wanna build a raft?"

I snorted, "I don't think we have the time or resources."

"No," he sighed again. "We'll have to walk the edge until we find a way over."

"Which direction?"

Daryl thought for moment before turning back to the dirt road. "Let's try following it down. It branches off at some point, it might be narrower there."

"We'll be okay," I comforted him and held his arm to my chest.

He smiled back at me and stopped, bringing his lips down to my own. I wished I had the time to get lost in him, stop here and stay the night so I could nestle against his chest as we rested on the leaves. I'd never made love outside before, but I could imagine how wonderful it would be with him; even if it was nippy as hell. But being in pursuit put a real damper on things. Not to mention being in constant fear of how long you might stay alive wasn't exactly an aphrodisiac. I marked a mental note in my head, however, that a camping trip might be in order once we were safe and sound.

Back on the dirt road we strode over the tire tracks at a brisk pace. The woods were thin between us and the river, and every once in a while we would check for any signs of an accessible path across. We found a few instances that would grant us dry navigation to the other side, but getting down to that point was nearly impossible. I was beginning to wonder how much longer this would take, how far we would have to walk, when a red shimmer boomed its way into the sky. It was a flare.

Daryl shoved me into the woods and forced me into a crouch against a tree. He went back to the dirt road to watch the flare billow in the sky, marking its trail to pinpoint its origin. When he came back, he pulled me to my feet and started off at a jog with me in tow.

"It's close to us. Somewhere in the woods from where we came," he said.

Panic took hold of me like a crushing hand wrapped around my throat. We stay in between the trees, using them as cover for anyone who might be nearby. I wasn't sure who had shot the flare, if it was friend or foe, but if Daryl didn't want to find out and neither did I.

From far off I could hear rumbling like that of an engine, and it was growing closer. Daryl drew me next to him, holding me close as he started back through the small patch of woods to the dirt road.

"Where're we going?"

"There's more cover over here," he explained.

"But we need to cross the river. If we go over there, we'll be cornered," I considered hastily.

"Fuck," Daryl was indecisive as we stopped in the road. "The woods aren't dense enough 'round here, but it's thicker d-"

The engine was a roar now and it was gaining on us. We needed to hide and quickly, but as Daryl was leading me back into the woods, headlights rounded the brambly bend and shone on us. We ducked into the cover of the forest just as the truck slid to a stop, rocks and dirt flying out from its tires. We ran parallel to the cliffs edge, dodging trees and thickets as we went. Negan's Saviors were shouting behind us, calling out the direction we were going, and if we hadn't been running so fast, I might have heard their rapid footfalls pursuing ours.

As we ran, the woods we were in began to thin and the forest floor started to turn jagged and uneven. It was disappearing into the cliffs edge and the further we went, the more we were being forced back to the dirt road where the Saviors waited, but Daryl had no intention on stopping and neither did I. Yet our intentions never seemed to work well with the way reality worked.

All at once, I lost my footing and rocks slipped out from under me as I started to fall over the precipice, screaming. Daryl held onto my arms as one leg dangled off the edge of the cliff, and I clung to him, using his strength to pull myself back up so we could keep going, but it was already too late. They had surrounded us.

* * *

"My, oh fucking my," Negan drawled as he sauntered before his wife and her lover, hesitating as he admired their defeated faces. "On your fucking knees."

Daryl stood stalk still, keeping Everly behind him as he glared daggers into his enemy. She peeked from around his shoulder and her scared green eyes met the hazel orbs of mirthful wrath.

"I don't want to ask you two again," Negan cautioned, an easy smile forming on his face.

Begrudgingly, Everly stepped out from Daryl's back and slid down to her knees, tugging on his hand as he remained standing. But with persistence, she got him to lower himself next to her, and she tightly laced her fingers with his. The time for defiance was over. They were caught. There wasn't anything else they could do except comply and beg for their lives.

"Jesus Christ," Negan began to laugh. "Jesus fucking Christ! You two shitheads nearly skipped town and got away. I told you two that I was into people huntin' but you didn't quite believe me, did ya? I bet you do now. I bet you won't try this shit again after night."

Negan swung his first lady in front of their faces. Everly gasped and jolted back in fear, but Daryl stayed stoic, barely moving an inch despite the terror that clawed up his throat. He knew what this game was, but he was so sick of it. Negan could do whatever he wanted to intimidate them, but he wasn't going to get Everly.

"No, we won't," Daryl said confidently, his voice crystal clear.

This comment struck a chord with Negan as he suspended his ministrations. A small look of befuddlement came over him as he peered down at Daryl, smirking slyly. He wiggled Lucille in his hand.

"Don't try to suck up to me now, redneck. You've wasted all of your fucking chances of making it out of this shit whole."

"Negan, please-" Everly begged.

"SHUT," Negan swiftly bellowed, "up, my _dear_ , _lovely_ wife. Shut the fuck up. Nothing you say, no amount of sorries or tears, is gonna persuade my stone, cold fucking heart from tearing his ass in."

"Please," Everly cried quietly.

"No," Negan shook his head. "Cut that shit out right now because it won't work anymore. You thought any other altercation you had with me was bad, sweetheart? Just fucking wait until you see this."

Negan whistled and his men advanced on them. Immediately, Daryl sprung up to his feet, dragging Everly up with him, and he crushed her against his chest as he began to back up.

"You won't hurt her," Daryl yelled at Negan.

"You're right. I'm not gonna hurt her. I'm gonna hurt _you_ , Daryl. So, don't be a pussy and let her go," Negan returned with a warm smile.

"You won't touch her again," Daryl stated more certainly as the Saviors got closer, nearly reaching them as his heel lost the edge of the cliff.

Negan's smile dropped, understanding what was about to happen. "Don't!"

"Hit the water feet first and I'll meet ya on the other side," Daryl whispered in Everly's ear as he spun her around and pushed her off the edge of the overhang.

"You stupid fuck!" Negan shouted, but Daryl hardly registered the brutish words as he leapt off the cliff after Everly and into the rumbling water below.

* * *

Edited by Nightperidot.

Dammit! I imagined the ending of this chapter a bit differently, but I decided it was too harsh. I was gonna have some sappy, dramatic conversation between Negan and Daryl where Daryl agrees with him, like, "Yeah, we are caught, and you can do whatever you want to me. Blah blah blah." But then out of nowhere (and they're still on their knees at this point), he was gonna kiss Everly and then shove her backwards off of the cliff, leaving just him with Negan. BUT that seemed highly dangerous for Everly, and I didn't want to leave Daryl alone with Negan because he has no reason to keep him alive or intact anymore.

Aaaaanyway... They've escaped once again! Ha-ha! Now let's see how they combat the chilly waters and hypothermia in chapter SIXTY-ONE! Holy hell, I can't believe how long I've kept this story going. It's basically a shitty, ripped off novel at this point.

Thanks to my guest reviewers and Blue Moon. They got away AND Dwight used the Uzi, so win-win. :D


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter 61**

"God…DAMMIT!"

Negan advanced on the four Saviors by the edge of the cliff. They looked dumbfounded and scared as their leader stomped toward them, nearly foaming at the mouth.

"You!" Negan pointed Lucille at a particular man who was closest to the cliff side. "You let them jump off."

"What?" The young Savior gulped, astonished. "No!"

"Yes!" Negan bellowed and pointed Lucille at his face. The younger man jerked back, nearly losing his balance. His pleading eyes swept to then men around him, the ones who he had worked so closely with, but they had backed off with relief and terror evident on their faces.

"You were right shitting there and you didn't fucking grab them!"

"No, no. Sir, I swear-," the man begged but Lucille had already made up her mind, and she rose in the air.

"You let them get away _again_!"

"No! No, no, n-"

 _Thwack!_

The Savior choked on his pleas as Lucille crushed the side of his head. It only took one hit to send him falling but not to the ground. Instead, he tumbled off the edge of the cliff as he fought for consciousness. He couldn't see, and the only sounds he was aware of were a sharp ringing in his right ear and the growing, angry hum of the river.

Negan spun on his heel to face the rest of his men and demanded angrily, "Anyone else want to fuck up tonight?"

A sheepish round of 'No, sir' answered him, and he pointed Lucille at the other side of the water.

"Then stop playing with your dicks and go find my fucking wife!"

His men turned and scrambled to their trucks, the higher-ups shouting out orders, as some others began tracking the border of the cliff to find a way down. Simon stood by his truck, arms crossed in disappointment as his friend stomped around in furious circles.

"Fuck!" Negan screamed as loudly as he could; a beastly roar in the night. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!"

Simon knew better than to approach Negan in this state. He was like a raging bull whose sight was pulsing crimson. Any poor, unfortunate soul that might try to intercept him at this moment might not have anything left on top of their shoulders. Simon sighed in frustration, easing back against the grill of his truck as he watched his leader - the only man he had trusted since the end - work off the fury he couldn't control any longer.

"I'm gonna break every single one of his bones."

Simon's ear perked at Negan's semi-coherent words. He straightened up, placing his hands in his front pockets as he took a few steps forward to hear his friend more easily.

"I'm going to break every single good damn fucking bone in his entire slimy, ugly body. And once I'm done doing that, I'll flay his fucking skin off like the goddamn fucking pig that he is! I'll wear his fucking face as a mask!"

"Sure you wanna take on the appearance of an invalid hillbilly?" Simon jested, hoping it would ease some of Negan's tension.

"I'm not talking about _that_ stupid piece of shit, but I do have something special planned for that one," Negan huffed. He stopped pacing and faced his friend, looking marginally calmer. "I'm taking about that half-burned, greasy haired, fucking twig Dwight."

"Ah," Simon nodded and smiled.

"Did they catch the son of a bitch?" Negan asked.

Simon shook his head. "They're still lookin'."

The man in leather closed his eyes, both of his hands tightening into fists around Lucille's base. He inhaled deeply, calming himself before he spoke again, but his words tremored with rage.

"Where would they go?"

"The real question is where will they end up?" Simon boldly corrected. "They won't stay in that water. They'll be in those woods, and if they continue south, they'll end up in the city full of biters. If they go east or west, they'll hit the main roads which we occupy. They won't turn back…"

"We've just gotta catch them where they can go no farther." Negan turned and eyed the woods on the opposite side of the river. "Radio in and send a truck to the Kingdom. Have them station just outside of its entrance. I want two others circling the roads where the woods run into the city."

"On it," Simon said, and did what was requested.

"I'm fucking finding you, shitheads." Negan whispered to himself as humiliation and spite flooded his system. "Ready or fucking not."

* * *

I wasn't entirely prepared for the shock of the water as I hit the curling rapid feet first. It covered me whole, blanketing me in an icy cold wetness that short-circuited my ability to move. It only lasted a few seconds, but when I finally got them moving, my limbs were heavy and delayed, and the backpack on my shoulders only seemed to weigh me down. But I wasn't going to die; not like this. Not after I just won another fucking shot at freedom.

I burst forth from the surface in a gasp, drawing in a deep breath of air as my stiff arms flailed and my frozen legs kicked, trying to keep my head above the current. It was confusing; the swell carrying me down a rapid, torpedoing path with no indication of where I was at or where I was going. And the darkness didn't help. With cold water splashing constantly in my face, it only left me sightless.

Without caution, I slammed into something hard and the breath escaped me instantly. Whatever I'd hit was large and slippery, but I held onto it as water swelled up around my head, creating a watery halo that splashed and trickled over me with fervor. I coughed, inhaling deeply as my lung loosened from their contraction, and I coughed again when water converged with air. I searched with unfeeling fingers as I choked, desperate to find a notch or cranny so I could climb out of the water and catch my breath, but I was so cold and disoriented. I felt as if I was beginning to drown.

Something strong hit me from behind, but the impact wasn't as great as the one I'd experienced initially. Whatever it was prevented the water from cascading over me so violently which gave me the minute I needed to find steady breathing and blink the water out of my eyes. I saw his hands on the boulder in front of me, bracketing me against it. That was when I realized it was his body pressed up against mine and not random flotsam.

His hand grabbed mine, pulling it up and placing it on a nook high on the boulder. I grabbed onto it as he hoisted me up, fighting with the current at the same time. I dragged myself up the best that I could and made it halfway before my energy depleted and I collapsed on the edge of the large rock. Splashing from behind indicated that Daryl was climbing up the rock after me, and his form rose over mine as he made it atop and then pulled me the rest of the way on.

He gathered me against his chest, rocking me back and forth as we shivered together. I closed my eyes, both thankful and terrified of our altered situation. I was happy that we'd gotten away from Negan and that I didn't have to witness what he'd planned to do to Daryl. And while we were better off on this rock than with him, we weren't exactly walking away smug. Negan could still find us if we didn't freeze to death first.

"Y-you're f-f-fucking…cr-crazy." My teeth chattered as I spoke.

"Yeah." Daryl took in a deep breath and squeezed his arms around me. "I'm r-really glad it turns out y-ya can swim."

If I felt capable, I would've smacked him, but I settled for a hidden smile and violent shivering instead.

"I can't feel m-my body."

"I feel you," Daryl sighed and hugged me tighter.

And I had to admit that I felt him, too.

"Are we-we in danger of…hyp-hypothermia?" I asked, wanting to be sure.

Daryl didn't answer for a second. "We might be okay…for a while. Hittin' that water d-d-definitely dropped our body temps, but we'll," he shivered, "we'll be okay."

"What d-do we do?"

"Warm up," was his simple reply, and I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. I didn't have to speak for him to understand my doubt. "I know I said we shouldn't m-move too much if we went in, and we shouldn't, but we gotta keep moving. They'll find us if we stay here."

 _Fuck_. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. I wasn't sure how much longer I could go on. I was nearly spent and swimming against the freezing ass water expended even more energy than I thought I'd had left.

Reluctantly, Daryl moved to his feet and lifted me up with him. I was still a trembling mess, but Daryl seemed to have composed himself significantly with only slight tremors jerking his body. With what seemed to be the short amount of luck we'd been blessed with tonight, the boulder we'd managed to float into was right by the river's edge. Daryl told me he'd leap first and catch me when I did. I wasn't fond of that idea, but it would have to do.

Once he was on the bank, I flung the backpack to him. It barely made it over, hitting the water as Daryl reached out and caught it.

"I can't do it."

If I could barely throw a bag across the small space between myself and land, I certainly couldn't jump across it without getting wet or plunging into the freezing water once more. And that was the last thing that needed to happen.

"Yes, you can." Daryl held out his arms. "I've got you."

I hesitated, trying to build up the courage to just do it already, but I was afraid, and my muscles had a mind of their own as they contracted uncontrollably.

"Everly, I'd like for ya to take your time, but…don't. We ain't got it."

"Okay," I breathed out in a shiver. "You're right."

I took a step back, preparing to vault the tiny amount of distance into Daryl's arms. I leapt, closing my eyes as my feet left the rock. My arms were outstretched, reaching for the man I loved as he reached for me. It seemed as though I started to fall before I barely hit the air, and my eyes snapped open in fright right as I landed against Daryl. I would've fallen flat on my face had he not been there to catch me.

"I told you, you could do it," he murmured in my wet hair, and I let out a single, breathy laugh. "I wish you hadn't lost your beanie. It woulda kept your ears covered, kept you warmer."

"I'll count myself lucky if that's the only thing I lost," I countered and undid my loosened braid. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail at the base of my neck, letting my hair cover my ears as I did. "Does this work?"

"Better than nothin'." Daryl grinned and took my hand. "Let's keeping movin' before we become statues."

"Before we do." I tugged on his hand and perched on my toes, pressing my lips to his. I kissed him deeply, his tongue matching movements with my own. It was enough to set a small fire in me, and I hoped the embers would grow strong as we pushed through the night.

I broke away from him, a light smile on my face. "T-to help keep me warm."

Daryl stayed silent, a corresponding smile on his face as he lead us into the woods. If nothing else went right, at least I was able to make him smile one last time. We were both giddy after our last escape; giddy and worried. Negan had found us twice. The first time had been just bad timing, but the last was pure rotten luck. Who was to say which way the tide would turn for us after this?

I noticed the crossbow still strapped to Daryl shoulder. It was fortunate that he'd managed to keep it when he fell into the river, but it seemed some of the arrows had become detached during our impromptu swim. He only had one left. I pointed out the fact, but Daryl seemed only concerned for a second before moving forward again.

"I'll make the last one count if I have'ta use it," he responded to the discovery and trekked forward. "Ya still cold?"

"Fucking freezing alive, you ass," I replied with sarcastic humor, but I lightly squeezed his fingers to let him know I was kidding.

"We should only have 'bout an hour of walkin' before we'll be at the city line. Once there, we'll need to move swiftly and quietly. Gotta circle around it to get to the Kingdom."

"Sounds about r-right."

It would make sense that nothing would be easy for us tonight.

An hour must've past, but it seemed like several more. I was cold as hell, my teeth chipping away at each other as my chin wobbled autonomously. I had no control of my limbs as they shook, trembling with each cruel breath that blew down from the dark sky. But I felt as if I could go on, like I would make it. I had made it this far.

Up head the trees became less dense and they gave way to broken houses, neighborhoods, and businesses that flourished in decay. The solemn streets were pocketed with debris; the most notable one being a crashed car with its grill imbedded in a street pole, the metal bending outward like crooked teeth. A quick look inside rewarded us with dry but old, mildewed shirts forgone in a closed suitcase. The houses might have revealed more attractive apparel, but time was of the essence and what we found didn't smell _too_ bad. Plus, I felt ten times more comfortable and warm having a dry shirt on, grungy or not.

We stalked through the blighted city, circling the deeper parts and scanning the deserted roads for any signs of the living and the living dead. We ran into a few stumbling, rotten bodies, but they were easy to dispose of. I didn't know what Dwight was talking about when he mentioned the city was crawling with walkers until we rounded a corner of a brick building and saw a significant crowd of them a few blocks down to our left. I was nervous. It had been a while since I had to tiptoe everywhere I went, sidestepping the dead lest I become their next meal. But Daryl assured me that with minimal sounds and stealthy movements, it would be an easy feat to evade the group entirely; something I already knew but dreaded doing anyway.

"We'll run to the alleyway straight across on three," Daryl whispered.

"You mean the dark one that monsters might be lurking in, waiting for a snack?" I quietly quipped backed.

"Yep… That's the one." Daryl kept his eyes around the corner on the group. "One… Two… Three."

We crept out onto the street, jogging at a crouch through the crosswalk. While the dead always snarled and moaned, they seemed to grow louder once we were out from cover, but it must have been my imagination because we made it across just fine and none of them tailed after us.

"How will we know when we've found the Kingdom?" I asked Daryl, hopping over a gooey corpse and its pet flies.

"Dwight said they'll be wearin' ballistics armor and they'll speak like they just came out of the 16th century."

"So, it's sort of like a futuristic renaissance festival where they have guns instead of swords, bulletproof vests instead of chainmail, and the living dead in place of ogres. Interesting twist." I smiled, still tense but more at ease the closer we got to home base.

"Oh, there's still ogres alright." Daryl flashed me a sideways grin. "We call 'em Saviors now. All politically correct and shit. Makes 'em feel like they're important… They're still self-entitled cocksuckers, though."

"Oh, right." I feigned recognition, and we huddled briefly in the shadow of a tall building. Daryl hugged me to his chest, taking a short break before we relieved ourselves of this horror by finding the Kingdom.

"I love you."

The words were a small murmur in my ear, soft and sincere. I couldn't stop the smile that rose on my lips, and his stubble grated rousingly against my cheek as I turned my face into his, kissing him. I knew this wasn't the time nor the place to engage him so romantically, but I'd felt so empty without him, so terrorized from within since the moment I stepped a foot inside of my wifely room, that this tiny bit of comfort was all I needed to keep me sane.

A clopping chorus reverberating down the city street rudely halted our heated PDA. Daryl slunk back into the shadows, pushing me behind him as he peered down the road, slinging his bow from over his shoulder and loading his only arrow. He aimed it, waiting for the source of the noise to show itself. It certainly didn't sound like the dead. It almost sounded like a horse.

Then it appeared, a majestic, ebony beast that shimmered silver in the moonlight and astride it's back sat a woman who was clad in all black herself; in ballistic armor. Daryl lowered his crossbow, stepping out from the shadows to make himself known. I didn't follow him, giving him the chance to test the friendliness of this stranger first.

"Halt!" The woman's voice wasn't loud but clear enough for Daryl to stop in his tracks. "Come no further and state your name."

He raised his hands, showing goodwill. "I'm Daryl. I escaped from the Sanctuary. Dwight sent me."

If the woman understood what that meant, she didn't show any signs of recognition. She remained stoic, a stern look on her face which was accentuated by her tightly pulled back hair.

"I know of no such thing. Leave these roads at once. They are dangerous and filled with foe, and you are trespassing on his Majesty's land."

"Listen, I ain't got time for petty games-"

"I have naught games nor tricks," the woman replied hastily. "Only warnings."

I was beginning to feel unsure about this conversation. She was warning us to leave, but I didn't think it was because she didn't want us there. Her mentioning of foes was leading me to believe there might be more than just the dead lurking around these dark corners.

"Daryl," I whispered, and both heads turned in my direction.

"You must go!" The woman ordered, but before any more words could be shared, a sharp beam illuminated the road from the east.

Daryl jumped back immediately, shoving me deeper into the darkness behind a half-full dumpster. The light had barely hit him, but that didn't mean that whoever was behind it hadn't seen him.

The woman shielded her eyes as the horse beneath her snorted in agitation. It stomped its foot as the rumbling of an engine got louder and the lights brightened the street, reflecting off of jagged windows. The vehicle came to a stop out of our sight and the slam of several doors was heard along with multiple set of approaching footsteps.

"Evenin', miss. Whatach doin' out here all by your lonesome in the dark?" A deep, twanging voice without a face asked.

"Patrolling his Majesty's streets which all of you are trespassing on," the woman retorted.

"Seems you found your intruders," the man's tone dripped with teasing sarcasm. "But if I recall correctly, these aren't your Majesty's streets. They belong to Negan… Like you."

The patroller didn't make a comeback, sitting silently atop her magnificent stallion in a tense standoff. She stared unblinkingly at the men before her; the ones we couldn't see.

"Seein' as you've been patrollin' these here streets, I was wonderin' if maybe you came across a couple; one male, one female. Guy's pretty big and the girl is a redhead; long, wavy hair."

"Neither beast, man, nor woman of those descriptions has come across my path, but if they had, I would hardly venture to share their whereabouts with _you_." She sneered rudely.

A string of laughter praised her response.

"That's all honey, sugar. I was just askin'. No need for the sass."

I thought that might be the end of it, but then I heard the chirp of a walkie and the Savior's twanging accent alerted Negan of his findings.

"You'll be on your way, then?" The woman asked after he finished his correspondence.

"That I will," the Savior responded as footsteps began to recede. "You keep them eyes open for that couple, and if ya happen to see 'em, let us know. There might be a nice reward in it for ya if ya do."

"That hardly elicits my interest. You're on your own."

"Whatever you say, sugar. But you might just regret sayin' that later down the line. Have a good night."

Vehicle doors slammed again and the engine rumbled as it reversed, headlights flashing like a beacon as it spun around and left the same direction it arrived. I sighed in desperate relief, my chest burning with the lack of air I neglected to take in during the conversation. The woman kept her pose, watching the end of the street as Daryl and I moved out from hiding.

"They've invaded the city. I saw them before you approached," she said, finally turning shrewd eyes on us. "That's why I tried to warn you away… They've also camped at our door. It will take patience to get you inside, but my King awaits your arrival."

 _Shit_. How long would they go on searching for us?

"Come along." The Kingdom woman spurred her horse and trotted down the double lined road. "Follow close and do as I say. They may appear from thin air once more."

It didn't take telling us twice to do exactly as she said. We'd gambled too highly to risk getting caught again, and I had a feeling that if it happened, we wouldn't get away so smoothly. Good fortune tended to be stingy.

"I admire your bow." The woman looked over her shoulder at Daryl. "Did you find it?"

"It was mine before," Daryl answered shortly.

"I'm rather talented with one myself. I have my own back at the Kingdom, but it isn't as modern as yours," she continued. "I am named Dianne."

Daryl and I locked eyes for an instant. I thumped his shoulder with the back of my hand.

"Nice to meet you," Daryl responded. "I'm Daryl and this is-"

"I know who you two are," Dianne cut in sharply. "I only just risked my well-being for the both of you."

We continued in silence, weaving through the city to avoid the dead and Negan's Saviors alike. Soon, but not soon enough, we came upon a citadel much like Alexandria's. It was evident that the town inside was smaller, but I could tell it must be full. Dianne led us to a four-way intersection just outside of the walls.

"This is where I shall leave you. The rest of your adventure is your own, but I will direct you to the way inside. King Ezekiel has been expecting you."

Dianne pointed to a manhole in the middle of the intersection, and Daryl and I exchanged a incredulous glance.

"Well, shit," he said.

"Literally," I agreed. It was as if he'd read my mind.

"Quickly. Before the heathens present themselves," Dianne urged.

Daryl trod to the metal cover and slipped it off. He looked at me. "Still got that flashlight?"

I patted my pocket, feeling the small tool. "If it'll still work."

Removing it from my pocket, I passed it to him and he clicked the button twice quickly, testing its durability. It had flickered on.

"Well," I sighed, at least grateful the flashlight hadn't drowned, "who goes first?"

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **Welp, they made it, guys. Now they just gotta battle mutant alligators (maybe with the help of some mutant turtles) in the sewers. Hopefully there won't be any poop zombies waiting to jump out at 'em. Eh. Probably not. That seems lame.**

 **Do you think Negan will force his way inside the Kingdom finally? Do you think he'll give up (ha!)? I wonder how this will all play out... :) See ya next Monday!**


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62**

The sewer was dark, damp, and cold, but trickling water made a subterranean echo as we followed spray painted arrows through the winding tunnels. We hadn't encountered any danger since descending into the earth's depths. It was mostly clear with a few dead and rotting bodies scattered through the sewer floors which were readily ignored. The Kingdom must use the tunnels as a means to move more discreetly to and from the city; plus, it was a great way to avoid detection or lose pursuing enemies. Just being here now, hidden and safe, set my anxiety at the lowest it had been in a long while. It was almost completely gone, and despite the sheer exhaustion I felt at this point, I was the best I ever had been emotionally in the past few months.

It didn't take us long to find the way out. It was a rusted, gritty ladder screwed onto the sewer wall with a neon red arrow beside it pointing up. The manhole was already removed, the bright but dim sky a halo above us. Daryl stopped me with one finger, flicking the flashlight off as he listened to the sounds that drifted down from outside. Mostly there was the wind and faint chirping of nocturnal insects, but also there were murmuring voices, soft but near. Daryl indicated to me that he was going up first and for me to remain quiet. I nodded, signaling my understanding.

I knew we must be right under the Kingdom, so I wasn't too worried that we would run into anyone who wanted to cause us harm, but the possibility still remained. So, I allowed Daryl to play by his caution rather than climbing out into a trap.

He paused at the mouth of the sewer, listening more closely before chancing a peek outside. He ducked back in, but slowly poked his head out before going rigid on the rails he clung to. I heard a short gasp and quickening footfalls on the asphalt, and he didn't move at first, but as whoever was above got closer, he started out.

"Oh, thank God!" I heard a sweet, southern voice that I instantly recognized as Maggie's.

"You guys made it!" Another female voice exclaimed, and it took me less than a second to pin it to Sasha.

I grabbed onto the wet, metal rungs and climbed up as fast as I could go, eager to be out of the smelly sewer and into safety - into home. I came up right after Daryl, and Sasha's dark hands reached out for me as I got to the top. I took a hold of her like she was my last lifeline and we embraced one another tightly, both of us happy to see the other after being separated for so long. And to the side, smiling and giving us all our space, I noticed a long haired, bearded man who I remembered was nicknamed Jesus; mostly because he put a face to what I imagined the son of God could have actually looked like.

"Oh, Maggie. Your belly!" I cooed and hugged her firmly but tenderly. Rick had mentioned that Maggie had taken refuge at the Hilltop when I first visited Alexandria, and I was more than ecstatic to see her swelling belly.

Our reunion was sweet; the four of us hugging one another and expressing our gratitude that we made it here, alive and relatively unharmed. I couldn't help but notice, however, how tense Daryl looked and how guiltily and forlornly he gazed at Sasha but mostly Maggie and her stomach. It didn't take a lot of pondering for me to figure out what was troubling him and as silent tears welled up in his eyes, all of the merriment drained from the moment.

We stood there in awkward silence, watching him as he began to cry, unable to form words. I went to his side, placing a delicate hand on his bicep as he turned his face away, hiding himself. I didn't want him to shut me out, but I wasn't sure what to do either.

"Daryl? It's okay." I made to put my arms around him, but he shook his head, sniffling and wiping his eyes.

"It's all my fault," he choked, looking at our two friends again. "I'm sorry 'bout Abraham and everythin' that happened… I'm sorry 'bout Glenn."

He lost his words to a sob, his shoulders shaking as he cried. I reached for him again, but Maggie stormed up and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look her in the face. She was angry and hurt; her blue eyes animated with emotion.

"Don't you _ever_ apologize for somethin' you didn't do. _You_ did not kill Glenn, Daryl. His death is not on your hands." Her eyes turned glossy as she locked them with Daryl's.

"It was me," he confessed but she shook her head.

" _No_ ," she stated firmly, still holding his chin in place so he would know the depth of her seriousness. "Do not blame yourself for something that was beyond your control. He would have killed Glenn whether or not you hit him. That's just the kind of rotten person he is, but not you. Never you."

She wrapped her arms tightly around him and after a moment, she broke away and caught his eye again with a sad smile. Sasha stepped forward, teary and sad as she hugged Daryl too, telling him just as much as Maggie did.

"We should let you guys clean up and get some rest," Jesus spoke as he came up to my side. "You'll be in the same building as Maggie and Sasha. I sleep there, too, whenever I visit here which seems to be often these days. So if you guys need anything during the night, we'll be close by."

The trio separated, wiping wet, red eyes. I stepped up to Daryl, taking hold of his arm as I sheepishly thanked Jesus.

"We'll only need one bed…if that's okay."

"Oh." Sasha seemed surprised and Maggie smiled widely at the two of us.

Jesus chuckled. "Sounds good to me."

"Everly needs to be checked out. One of Negan's men made us wreck and she hit her head pretty hard." Daryl gingerly palmed the crown of my head.

"I feel fine. Just utterly exhausted," I said.

"Nonsense," Jesus said with concern. "Both of you need to be checked out. You've been through hell. Follow me."

He started off and the group of us trailed behind him.

"Have you guys heard from Dwight since we separated?" I asked hopefully.

Jesus looked back over his shoulder. "Once about thirty minutes ago. He managed to lose the Saviors, but he won't make it here tonight. I think he decided to hole up at Somerset."

I sighed, clutching Daryl's arm anxiously. "Good."

"He's done a lot for us," Maggie piped in. "Helpin' us plan what to do, where to start, gettin' us weapons. If it weren't for him, we'd be nowhere and you'd still be hostages."

"It's a good thing he turned out to be a traitor. Let's just hope he doesn't betray _us_ ," Sasha added with a slight edge of skepticism in her voice. I couldn't blame her for not laying all of her trust in Dwight. I held moments of mistrust as well, but they were fleeting and rare.

"Dwight's done right by us so far. I know it's hard to keep faith, but he's done nothin' but deliver for us since he promised he would," Maggie countered, and Sasha didn't interfere further.

Jesus led us to a brick building, opening the doors for us as we stepped inside. It was an old but clean school.

"I'll have to go wake the doc up, but I'll lead you to the clinic. Maybe you two can get cleaned up in the meantime."

"I'll go find you guys some fresh clothes," Sasha offered, a thin look of guilt on her face as she left to complete her task.

"She alright?" Daryl asked Maggie.

"She's fine." The spunky brunette sighed, running a hand through her short locks. "Just wary and suspicious and sick at heart. She wants to believe that we can beat Negan, but her entire outlook is bleak. Everything Dwight's done up until now… She just can't trust his motives."

"It took us a while to believe in him, too. Maybe we can talk with her," I said.

"Maybe." Maggie smiled at me as Jesus stopped us at a door.

"Make yourselves comfortable. I'll be back shortly with the doc."

Maggie opened the clinic door and flipped on the lights as she gestured us inside. It was a typical school clinic; small with one desk, a few hanging cabinets, a bathroom, and only a couple of cots.

"I'll getcha guys a few rags to wash up. Lie down, rest your bones."

I thanked her and did as she suggested with Daryl following in my footsteps, sitting by my side on the cot dotingly. Maggie smiled as she hovered by the door, watching us with the knob in her hand.

"I'm really glad you guys are here."

"You have no idea." I smiled back and rested my head on Daryl's shoulder.

* * *

Dwight winced as the brunette woman finished up his stitches. His shoulder was a throbbing, swollen mess, but he'd refused anything stronger than aspirin. He didn't want to dwindle what supplies Somerset had and he had to stay sharp of mind. Tonight was only the beginning of what was to come for a lot of people. Namely, pain and death, and Dwight pictured his name at the top of that shit list.

Negan knew he was a traitor now; a backstabbing, two-faced snake; a regular Benedict Arnold. That had not been part of his original plan, and the untimely discovery of his treachery nipped a bud in the score he'd planned to settle with his former "leader". But he was already working on something new; something better. Dwight was anything but short of ideas, and as he fought against the pain in his left shoulder, he conjured up something so devilishly perfect that he nearly moaned at the thought.

Despite working out what to do next in his head, he was still stark raving mad and ready to unleash the fury he held within. It wasn't so much anger at Negan that he felt, but more at himself for screwing this night up so badly. He had lost two good men, his friends, tonight, and Dwight couldn't see to blame anyone else but himself.

"Hold still," the woman chastised him and he tried, but he kept balling his hands into angry fists, his arm muscles clenching, with each wave of realization that they had been so close to losing it all. A couple of them had. "Done."

His nurse rolled her chair back, removing her gloves and tossing them onto the counter. She looked to Kai for permission to go. He leaned against the wall opposite of Dwight, fuming silently but so obviously that it almost appeared smoke was coming out of his ears.

"Go," he grumbled.

The woman flicked up her eyebrows in offense, rolled her eyes, and left.

"Tell me why the fuck I let you through my fuckin' gate," Kai demanded.

Dwight sighed internally. He wasn't in the mood for this shit. "Because you're helping us."

"I ain't gonna be of much fuckin' help if Negan comes barrelin' in here after your head and takes mine, too. I told ya to keep me the fuck out of this until he was dead."

"If they knew I was here, _we'd_ both be dead already," Dwight snapped, fed up and exhausted.

Kai stomped up to him, stooping so that his face hovered menacingly in front of Dwight's.

"I'm tellin' you now, and I don't play no fuckin' games, if Negan finds out ya here, I'll kill ya myself and deliver your limp dick body to him personally."

The blond man inhaled and exhaled rapidly, his anger nearly spewing forth before he could stop himself, but at the last second he reined himself in and broke eye contact. Now wasn't the time to start a fight and lose the biggest ally he had. He ducked his head and tried to sound humble.

"I'm sorry. I didn't have anywhere else to go. They blocked the way back to the city."

Kai scoffed but backed away.

"He's already radioed me lookin' for you. I told him I'd keep my eyes out, send out some men, but as long as he don't show up here, you're safe…enough."

Dwight kept a sneer at bay. "Got it."

"So, since ya screwed shit up so badly and Negan knows you're a double-crossin' bastard, what's the plan now?" Kai sat on the chair the nurse had vacated, rolling it back to stretch out his long legs.

"Well, we can't exactly go forward with hitting the Hilltop or Alexandria yet. And the Kingdom is barely stocked with defenses. He would crush them all in one go if they acted alone," Dwight thought aloud.

"So, cripple him," Kai suggested.

"I was getting to that." Dwight glared at him in annoyance. "Since we can't get all of our soldiers rounded up like we planned, I'm going to have to find them from somewhere else."

Kai squinted his eyes in confusion and leaned back in the chair. "Who and where?"

"The horde that are scrambling about several miles southeast of here."

Kai laughed. "What? Are you the commander of the dead now? What the fuck are you gonna do with a bunch of shit for brains dead fucks stumbling about?"

"I'm gonna lead them to Negan's door. Then, I'll let them handle the rest."

"Okay," the broad man nodded his head in thought, but he lifted a finger with a mocking smile on his face. "And you'll be the one to sacrifice yourself to do that right? 'Cause there ain't no way anyone is gonna volunteer to do that shit."

"I'll figure something out. No one is going to have to sacrifice themselves." And Dwight sincerely hoped that turned out to be true. Although, he wouldn't mind too terribly if Kai changed his mind and offered his self-sacrificing services.

"Welp," Kai shrugged, still grinning. "You're the mastermind here. I'm just the moral support."

Dwight's laugh was acerbic. "Yeah, a real pillar to lean on."

"Hey, I've helped you out a lot. I gave you shit that my some of my own people would kill me over if they found out," Kai replied defensively.

The former Savior stood up from his spot and slipped his jacket on gingerly. Kai stood as well, nearly towering over the slighter man as he ignored the goliath before him.

"You got a room for me, man? It's been a long night." Dwight kindly smiled.

"Right this fuckin' way, ya ass."

Dwight rested in the room he had been given, flicking on and off a flashlight he'd managed to keep on him. He watched the light hit the wall, the mirror, the curtains, the floor, and then he watched it disappear, the sudden absence of light a remaining glare in his eyes. With each beam, each flick of his thumb, he saw her silhouette; her hair framing her soft face, a summer breeze blowing her dress against her tanned legs, the smile she always wore when she welcomed him home, the fluttering of her eyelashes as she slept. Those images were as dark as the corners of his room. They were translucent shadows that danced across his mind, the edges blurred and the figures unclear; fading memories.

But he would remember her. She would always be there with him even as the time they shared became a distant, unattainable horizon; far away and out of his reach no matter how fast he ran. He would bear the longing, however. So long as it never disappeared.

* * *

"My friends," King Ezekiel revered as he stood from his throne and gazed down at the two battered figures before him. "I have waited many moons to make your acquaintances. The tribulations you have bared for your people show vastly on your faces. How beautiful sorrow can look… Come hither. Open yourselves to me and share all that you have endured."

Through the fog of a restless night's sleep and a tremendously aching body, I found myself stunned and impressed by the man before me, not entirely expecting such a professional play to this degree. King Ezekiel was intriguing, more so by the three hundred pounds of Bengal tiger that lounged domestically by his side. She was gorgeous; her coat glossy and yellow-green eyes luminous. And naturally, I was timid of her.

Daryl kept my left arm locked behind his, half blocking me with his right shoulder. King Ezekiel chuckled silently at our expressions and nervous eyes. He sat on his throne and patted the large cat's head, and she remained passive as her eyelids began to droop.

"Shiva," King Ezekiel introduced us. "My most loyal pet and lady. She will not harm you unless I command it, and I wish upon you no harm."

I swallowed. "I'm glad for it."

The two of us stopped right in front of the stage the king sat upon, waiting for him to lead us in what he wanted us to say. Daryl wasn't much of a talker or a sharer. At least, not with people he didn't know very well. So that was going to leave much of the conversation up to me; I just wasn't sure where I should begin.

"Your story," King Ezekiel encouraged with a warm grin. "Tell me your fascinating tale."

"Well," I stammered. "I'm sure you heard how it all began?"

The king's face changed dramatically, the once benign glow souring into a disgusted scowl. "A most putrid occurrence to have been borne of this extant, foul world. Oh, yes. I heard of your fate with our adversary; a foul-mouthed caricature of a man prone to bellicose conduct. I was saddened to hear of the untimely deaths of your friends and your ultimate sacrifice." His obsidian eyes studied Maggie and Sasha briefly, and they softened significantly as they returned to us. "But before me I see two strong souls that bore tumultuous pain… Ease yourselves and bestow upon me the grievances that burden your hearts."

With much effort, I explained our time in the Sanctuary, sparing the gruesome details of what we endured. I told him, including those who stood in the auditorium with us, everything, but decided to skip what happened in the forest, not ready to neither venture down that avenue with anyone nor confess how my perception of Negan had changed slightly in those moments afterward. I still saw him as a monster; a thief who stole everything that had made me happy and destroyed it in the palm in his hand. But from the remnants he picked out some of the pieces and offered them back to me to fit together again.

As I spoke, King Ezekiel's facial expression hardened, his eyebrows dipping down as the corners of his mouth lowered, and when I finally finished, I felt light; like a tremendous weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. But it seemed the king had become encumbered by our "tale".

"In my time on this Earth, moving amongst the magnificence of stars and celestials that swallow every ounce of our significance, I have never deigned to envisage such cruelty. Stealing life is one thing; a repugnant, appalling thing. But to take a life that still breathes and use it to pleasure the demented, violent whims of a maniac such as what you have sustained twists the wholesome parts of me into something dark and abhorrent. I wish to never feel as I do now for the remainder of my blessed days…" King Ezekiel broke off and looked away, disturbed, and then composed himself. "I cannot say that I am ungrateful for your selfless submission for without it we would not be here and we would be none the wiser. It is with your knowledge, and those yet trapped within the bowels of that hell, that we will triumph over evil. Your bravery will bring about glorious days and your wisdom a plentiful bounty, and in honor of the afflictions you so graciously endured, I will win this war for you."

"I… I don't know what to say," I responded.

And I really didn't. It might take me a few days, but I needed to soak in everything he just said. The amount of passion and innate altruism that laced the words of a complete stranger… I was genuinely touched.

"Thank you," was all I could respond with.

"Do not thank me, child. It is I, and all of the people whom you took the place of, that should be thanking _you_. You are the heroes, and we are merely wide-eyed in awe." The king smiled gently.

I flushed, not used to such praise. While Daryl was silent, his arms had relaxed and on his face I saw that while he thought the man before us was a bit off his rocker, he respected him.

"King Ezekiel," Daryl spoke quickly, and the king's eyes lit up, excited to hear him speak. "I request just one thing."

"Anything." He lifted one hand beseechingly. "Whatever your humble heart desires."

"Negan." Daryl took a deep breath. "He's mine."

The king's smile broadened widely, exposing large, white teeth. A rumble began in his chest, deep and warm. He laughed thunderously, his head thrown back and his subjects laughed with him. It wasn't mocking or aiming to offend; it was laughter of the admiring kind.

"Consider him yours, friend. I admire your temerity." He paused, studying Daryl shrewdly. "I fear he may be no match for what is to come."

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **Another delayed chapter, and it's a short one too; my bad. :/ I'm going to work toward writing a longer one than usual to post next time. I have had some personal issues happening lately where they may take up more of my time during the weeks to come, but just know that I think about you all every day and it doesn't please me when I can't post on time. But you guys knew that, right?**

 **Anyway, the battle scenes should be coming up shortly and it's going to take a lot of concentration to make them (fuckin' kick ass!) read well . Hopefully I don't disappoint when it comes to that. So, if I don't post anything at my usual time, I'm trying to make things perfect. I sat on this chapter all weekend and week because I wasn't satisfied with it, but I didn't want to hold out any longer. Arg! As a pirate would say, I suppose...**

 **Until next time! Peace out.**


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63**

He was still awake, determination the fuel that kept his mind working as he searched for two phantoms that had disappeared like a mist in the wind. Or more correctly, like two shitheads who jumped off of a motherfucking cliff into undoubtedly freezing cold water. If he hadn't witnessed the stupidity himself, he might not have believed it, but here he was, astonished and seething. They had dropped off the edge like a sack of rocks and were gone, swept downstream by raging currents. They could be alive, dead, or a combination of both if the fall hadn't killed them immediately, but Negan had no time to think of anything but the first option: that they had survived, that they had escaped him.

 _No_ , he told himself. The jump hadn't been high enough. He'd seen people survive falling from much taller heights. They weren't dead. _Not fucking yet._

His men had combed the banks, looking for any trace of the defectors, but they'd found neither hide nor hair. Even with the sun above the trees, a second sweep had left them with jack shit. Now it was a game of, "Where the fuck could they be?" It was a question Negan wanted an immediate answer to yet one that would grant anything but. He would have to work to find them, and he knew they were out there, somewhere.

 _"They had to have gone in those woods over there,"_ Gavin had said, pointing.

Negan had wanted to agree, but he'd sent men ahead to the other side, searching surrounding neighborhoods that led into the city and then into the city itself. But here he stood empty-handed and wifeless; well, to an extent.

 _"Not if they got caught in the current and couldn't get out,"_ was a reply from one of Gavin's troops. _"Might be all the way to the ocean by now. Shark bait."_

It was clearly a hyperbole, but Negan had seen the point.

 _There's no way they made it too fucking far_ , Negan mused again, going over the terrain in his mind. Even if they had rode the current for a few miles, it wouldn't have taken his Saviors long to pinpoint their location. There wasn't anywhere for them to go. A better explanation was that they had a specific place in mind before leaving, or they were fucking dead. The former could be easily attained. Dwight was working with them after all, and there was no telling what information he had given them. But if they were dead, well, then none of this would matter.

Now, Negan stood in front of Alexandria, his ire growing as he reflected on the unproductive morning. He had already paid an unannounced and disruptive visit to the Hilltop, but that had served as a waste of time and only gifted him a stronger headache than the one he'd had before. He hadn't even spared the Kingdom a forward thought even though he knew it was the closest community from where Daryl and Everly had disappeared. Instead, he sent proxies in his place to scour the city, turning over every corner they could have hidden in, but the dead were like rats, scuttling and surrounding his patrollers. His Saviors deemed the city unsafe for two travelers on foot, but that didn't fool Negan. Not one bit. So, he sent his men to the Kingdom lest he went himself and lost his shit on the fairytale sideshow. He already felt the ice breaking from under him.

Viewing Alexandria, Negan frowned. The gate he had mangled so beautifully was propped up awkwardly, allowing for a smidgeon of the security and safety that the sprawling town had had before he'd found it and broken her in. That is when he noticed a new addition to this Mayberry town, circling her walls of Alexandria was a crude beginning of what looked like a dry moat. The ground was open, large piles of dirt covering the grass, road, and yards of the few houses not fortunate enough to be inside of her walls. Looking at it all, he wanted to blow it all in again; blow down the whole damn town and revel in the destruction that would burn from her timber, but restraint was an angel on his shoulder, telling him to make logical decisions, not ones he'd regret.

"Open the damn gate!" He heard one of his men bark from the other side, and slowly, screeching like a dying horse on its last legs, the bent and mangled excuse for a door slid open.

Negan put on a small grin, faint but still present as he waited silently to be welcomed in. His Saviors were parked right by the gate, all eager for his arrival. He was sure they were ready to go home, but Negan felt like a week wasn't enough for the Alexandrians to be left on their own; even if he had taught them a nasty big lesson. Now, he was mighty glad he'd had the foresight to keep his men stationed here for so long.

Once the gate was opened as far as it would go, he strolled in languidly, like he didn't have a care in the world despite the warring storm that surged inside of him. He bypassed a dark-haired younger woman, ignoring the socially awkward mullet man and the angry Latina chick that stood by his side with a hip jutted out and arms crossed as she glared daggers at the side of his head. Yet Negan saw no Carl, and he certainly saw no sign of Rick; his smile grew genuine.

"Andy," Negan greeted his foremost man.

"Sir," Andy greeted back. He was a tall, lanky kid in his early twenties that looked like he would melt at the faintest of glares, but he was self-assured, reliable, and ruthless when it counted. It caught people off-guard which Negan liked.

"What the fuck is that shit outside?" Negan flipped a thumb over his shoulder.

"A walker preventative, sir. I considered not allowing it, but it gave them other means to stay preoccupied rather than glowering at our backs every hour of the day. I didn't see the harm," Andy replied honestly.

The Sanctuary leader nodded, slightly perturbed, but he dismissed the issue for a later discussion. "Any sign of my wife and the pig that's with her?"

"As I reported to you, there's been none. We haven't let the Alexandrians leave in a day, but those who we did allow to go before left in small groups and they didn't stay gone for long," Andy supplied.

Negan nodded thoughtfully. "You've searched this place? Found every nook and cranky that some fuckwits could hide in?"

"As thoroughly as we could given our numbers, sir. I didn't want to leave the gate with one guard, and with only two of us searching, we've been left with little time to cover adequate ground."

Negan frowned, displeased but understanding. Andy had taken precautions; ones that ensured the Alexandrians couldn't weasel their way out of the new hole they'd buried themselves so deeply in. He appreciated that.

"Search it again. You know this shit town better than we do at the moment," Negan ordered. Andy dipped his head once in agreement and rounded up his fellow soldiers, giving them commands to strip search the town once more.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Rosita's outraged voice finally drew his attention to the trio by the gate.

"Oh, fucking excuse the shit out of my manners. I didn't see you three dipshits standing there," Negan taunted. He glanced away from a glowering Rosita to see Eugene practically shaking in his boots. "How's it hanging, Tennessee Top Hat? Make anymore cool as shit inventions to show me?"

"Negative, sir. I've been immersed in matters otherwise as of late, which I'm sure you can understand the circumstances as to how and why," Eugene replied strongly despite his appearance.

Negan forewent a reply and waltzed up to the three, looking them over. He tried to read their faces, looking for any signs or hints that they might be hiding something, but other than Eugene's frequently shifting eyes, they maintained eye contact with him which led him to think maybe he was hot on a cold trail.

"You three not up to anything, are you?" He asked anyway.

"What would we be up to?" The dark-haired woman spoke before Rosita could run her big mouth.

Negan squinted his eyes at her, trying to place a name to a face but failed. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Tara," she replied evenly, but there was a bit of an impatience hidden underneath her tone.

"Well, Tara, you fucking tell me. I'm not a goddamn mind reader."

"We aren't up to anything," Rosita bit out angrily. "So why don't you take your horde of mindless assholes and leave us alone. You've caused enough trouble and death to last us a fucking lifetime."

"No, shit," Negan chuckled, Lucille hanging lazily from his shoulder. "I guess I should be more specific, though. I meant to ask if you've been hiding anyone in here; two specific fucking people, in fact. You might know 'em." He looked Rosita square in the eye. "One's a sexy ass redhead that's about as fouled mouthed and sassy as you, but infinitely more tolerable." He looked to Eugene and Tara. "The other is a dumb fuck, redneck, piece of shit termite that goes by the stupid fucking name of Daryl. You three shits seen 'em around?"

Rosita laughed. "Wow, what sad news. You mean to tell me that you, Mr. Badass In Black, can't keep track of two people? Two of _your_ people?" She scoffed derisively. "Pathetic. You must be losing your touch."

"Rosita," Tara warned nervously, but Negan was too preoccupied controlling his hand.

He wanted to reach out and smack the smirk off of her face, but he fought the urge and maintained up his own grin, not giving in to her ridicule. Instead, he felt himself falling back on what he always used to control his anger, sadness, or any other emotion he felt left him vulnerable; his humor. It was, and always would be, his safety net.

"You know, since I'm already here," Negan took a step back and gazed at the three of them, "I might as well take my share of supplies. I mean, it has been about a week, has it fucking not? Maybe a bit over that."

He caught the frowns on their faces.

"Oh, what the fuck is it?" He asked sarcastically. "Don't tell me that you've got nothing for me. You're so capable and resilient, right? While I'm just losing my touch, but," he stepped back up to the small group, "it seems to me like your leader Rick might not be _hand_ ling things so damn well."

Negan waved one hand in the air at them with a large smile. Rosita mumbled something heatedly to herself in Spanish while the other two looked away, abased.

"How's the fucking prick holding up anyway?" Negan asked cockily.

Tara stepped forward, deciding to speak on behalf of the group. The rest of this fruitless endeavor was going to be civil, and no one was ending this day hurt or robbed any more than they already were.

"He needs a doctor."

Negan flicked up his eyebrows, a slight expression of concern on his features. "That so?"

"Yes," Tara hesitated but forced herself to speak. "If you would let him see one, or you could even take him to see yours…" She held her hands up in apology at the forming scowl on the Sanctuary leader's face. "I don't know. I just don't want him to die… Do you?"

Negan shrugged, inhaling deeply and then exhaling with a complacent sigh. "You mean to tell me that Rick, the ex-cop that led half of your sorry asses here through the shit that's out there, is so devastated about some bruised and broken hands that he might actually fucking _die_?" He laughed heartily. "Damn… What a fucking bitch."

Negan stifled a chuckle as he watched their faces go from anticipation to pure loathing. He pondered if he should actually do anything for their leader, or if he really was as bad off as they were making him out to be. Should he allow Rick the comfort of a doctor's healing hands, or make him tough it out? Were death's fingers truly curled around his scrawny, little neck?

"Where's he at?" Negan decided. "If he's _truly_ going to lose his life because he can't jerk himself off anymore, I want to see it first _hand_ before I waste my time and resources."

Tara broke eye contact, her cheeks burning. She looked at the paneled side of the town infirmary, trying to come up with a quick answer. Rick was no longer in fear of losing his life; not anymore whereas before it did seem like he might. But it turned out that it had been exhaustion and shock more than anything that had left him bedridden and unconscious for those first few draining days after Negan's last visit. After his fourth day of rest, he'd rapidly began to regain his strength. He was still hurt, his hands immobile and bandaged, but Michonne might never forgive her if she took the slicked-back kingpin in to see him while he was still weak and vulnerable.

"We're not letting many people in to see him," Tara made up, hoping Negan would drop it and believe her.

"What, is it family only? He must not be that bad if you won't let me pay him a friendly fucking visit. That or you guys have stopped giving a shit." He glanced at Rosita, moving to stand in front of her. "I'm sure it's been rather hard on you all. Prick can't take care of his people when he can't use his hands, huh? Must be losing his _touch_."

Negan poked the middle of Rosita's forehead with a finger, and she stepped back, swatting at his hand viciously. Her face turned ten shades of red before she spun on her heel and stormed off down the road, her hands balled into tight fists at her sides. Negan shook his head, whistling low as his eyes followed her. He rolled them over to Eugene who stood rigid but watchful.

"Is she always that much of a bitch or does she just like me?"

"I believe her malignant disposition towards you is due to a deep-seated animosity that she feels for your metaphorical guts," Eugene blurted. "N-no offensive or…anything."

Tara covered her face with a hand as Negan laughed out loud, entertained.

"Tell you guys what," he said once he'd gathered himself, "I'll let this week's supplies slide."

Tara snapped her head up, shocked. "R-really?"

Negan shrugged in a good-natured way and smiled warmly. "Sure."

But she narrowed her eyes as he winked and strolled away.

* * *

Two trucks slowed to a stop in the parking lot, the men inside calculating their surroundings before exiting their vehicles. There were ten of them - more than usual - but this was a special visit. This wouldn't be a simple collection of their weekly tithe. They were also looking for two people who may have taken refuge here. Two people who had the potential to be dangerous if they fell into the wrong hands.

Gavin secured the rifle on his back and walked forward, not needing to glance at the armed men behind them. They'd brought the good artillery with them; the ostentatious and treacherous kind. There was a chance they wouldn't have to use them other than to showcase their power, but considering the circumstances, it was best to be ready at all times. Dwight had really fucked with everyone's head; led them to believe he was someone he really wasn't and that had caused a lot of suspicion amongst the Saviors. Who was still loyal? Who never had been in the first place? It made everyone a bit more careful.

"Your arrival is premature," stated a young man astride a reddish-brown mare. "May I inquire as to why?"

"Daniel! Nice to see you, too, bud. To answer your question, you may inquire, but that's about it." Gavin placed a hand on his hip and gestured to the walls in the distance. "Can we come inside?"

"No," Daniel replied matter-of-factly.

"And why the fuck not?" Gavin pressed.

"It is not my decision to make but my king's," Daniel revealed. "However, I shall request his appearance at this time."

The dusty-haired fellow turned his mare in the direction of the Kingdom. Gavin looked back to three of his men and inclined his head after the animal and its rider. The four Saviors began to follow the horse down the road when Daniel stopped suddenly, twisting in his saddle to look back at the quartet.

"You are not permitted to follow me," he strictly stated.

Gavin removed the rifle from his back, as did his men, and pointed his weapon at the rider's head. "Since you apparently aren't capable of makin' decisions, we just made it for you. Lead us."

"You are making a grave mistake."

"And we'll reap the consequences," Gavin retorted with a sarcastic smile. He jutted his gun in the direction of the Kingdom, urging the young man forward.

With a scowl, Daniel faced forward in his saddle and spurred his mare. She set off at a steady walk, leading the group of them to the entrance of King Ezekiel's land. He wasn't required to call out to anyone upon reaching the gates. Eyes were always on the road and surrounding area, so Daniel chose not to make a big fuss about those who were behind him. They had known the Saviors would turn up sooner rather than later, and twelve hours after the arrival of their runaways, here they were. Not quite on cue with what King Ezekiel had predicted, but close enough.

The doors open inward, revealing the sprawling town inside. This was a first for the Kingdom. Their land had never been tainted by the soles of their enemy; neither freely nor by force, but their king had insisted that they be let in should the request arise. So, without further ado, Daniel set Cinnamon to a trot, leaving behind the four Saviors by the door as he reached his ruler's lodgings. He dismounted quickly, and made his way inside.

"Your majesty." Daniel was out of breath, his tone urgent.

King Ezekiel sat on his throne, relaxed as he examined his nails. "So, they have arrived."

"Yes, your majesty. Inside of the walls."

The monarch looked at his soldier, a crease of worry on his forehead. The king had accounted for this possibility, but he had fervently wished it would not come to pass.

"Then I shall make my way into the daylight and greet our meddlesome guests." The king looked down to the right. "Shiva."

The lounging tiger looked up at her master, her large yellow-green eyes expanding in inquiry.

"Accompany me, my love."

As King Ezekiel rose, so did Shiva, heeling by his side in a sultry strut. She followed him, her intelligent eyes mindful of their surroundings. She saw many things she recognized, and the odors were the same as they always were. Nothing was out of the ordinary, nothing was new, until her master led her through the streets and she caught a whiff of something unfamiliar. At once, the Saviors stepped back as a low growl emanated from her throat, but a habitual stroke of her head set her at ease.

"His majesty, King Ezekiel!" Jerry announced to the four men and then stepped to the side.

Despite the intimidating presence of his tiger, the Kingdom ruler witnessed most of the men hiding their smiles or failing to stifle their laughter at the introduction. It did not bother him. Honestly, it gave him confidence. This façade he put on and the unconventional way of life he and his people lived was so peculiar that it almost made them invisible; a joke. There was no way they could have the wits to be involved in a mutiny. Not against a league as powerful as the Saviors…

"How may I serve you gentlemen?" The king queried. "Have my people not supplied you with your procurements?"

The older, graying man named Gavin took a step forward, a rifle rest on his forearm and his fingers near the trigger. "We haven't gotten that far yet."

"Why have you brought weapons into my home? Is there some sort of threat here?" King Ezekiel asked with masked worry.

Gavin pointed to an obedient Shiva. "No, just a precaution should anything spring up. Truth be told, I did not expect to see half the shit you have going on in here. I thought for sure it would be a bunch of loonies dressed up in costumes prancing around in circles, but everything seems pretty normal other than that fucking tiger."

"Sorry to lead you astray." King Ezekiel opened his arms in truce. "We do have to strive for our comforts. Do you not?"

"Not as much as you," Gavin smirked. "Speaking of which, we'll be taking our regular load once we check this place out. We've got two of ours missing, and while I'm sure they're not here, we just want to make certain." He paused. "No strangers have come around since late last night, have they?"

The king's dreaded head shook in refusal. "None to my knowledge."

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Ezekiel?" Gavin asked; an undertone of cynicism in his voice.

The polite smile that King Ezekiel wore threatened to crack, so he lifted it higher and let out a small chuckle. "I would not dare, sir. That would be unbecoming of a _king_."

"Well, then," Gavin nodded once, "this should be quick, _Ezekiel_. Just keep that damn tiger away from us."

At the snap of his fingers, Gavin's men trod off in separate directions and began to search the town. It took them over an hour to cover the town's grounds while King Ezekiel felt inclined to allow Gavin into his auditorium for a survey of his own. The lieutenant kept his rifle at the ready, constantly eyeing Shiva from the side and sometimes sending a Kingdomer into spots he felt were suspicious, but there was never a trap or any surprise tucked away in hiding. Once their business was concluded, and they felt there was nowhere else to check, the Savior collected their share of supplies and began trudging back to the gates with the king and his assembly.

"We appreciate your hospitality," Gavin thanked King Ezekiel. "Certainly for letting us come inside and see how things work in here for damn once."

"The pleasure is all mine," he smiled in veiled sarcasm.

Gavin took the walkie from his hip, pressing the button to speak. "Gavin to Negan. The Kingdom is clear. We'll be heading back up north shortly."

The walkie crackled on. "Update me if you find anything."

He placed the radio back on his buckle and faced his host one last time. "Before we trot on out of here, I've got one last request. I'm gonna need a couple of your people to supplement our loss. Nothing personal against you, just want to keep our numbers even."

The smile King Ezekiel adorned vanished quickly. "My people have naught to do with yours. They shall not suffer consequences of deeds beyond their making."

Gavin shrugged. "That's probably true, but we don't really care. Don't worry, though. Once the two we're looking for show up, you might get yours back. Might also be something extra special thrown in for you if you're the one who helps us find 'em. Keep that in mind."

The king couldn't answer, a glower forming where a once benign, if not forced, smile had been moments before. The head Savior waited a few seconds for the other to say the words that would get them going, but they never came.

"Any day now, Ezekiel. We've got bigger fish to fry and they're treading on dry land."

"Richard," the ruler instantly ordered. "Jorganna."

The duo by those names came forward, knowing full well what was implied by their king's summoning, but they waited obediently for his direct order to act.

"What is your oath to me?" He asked while keeping his eyes trained on the Savior before him.

"To serve you faithfully, your majesty," his soldiers replied.

"Would you deem this moment a testament of faith, my friends?" He finally made eye contact with them, lifting his eyebrows in inquiry.

"To its purest extent," Richard replied.

A boom vibrated the air, powerful and violent. The shock of a firing gun was never a sound some could get used to despite any anticipation, but after a few shots, it could grow more tolerable. The Kingdom soldiers didn't have much time to adjust as it only took seven rounds for them to cease, the air stifled with the acrid smoke of gunpowder and their ears ringing.

Shiva was a ginormous ball of charging energy, ready to pounce at the slightest movement. Everyone remained still, however, as three bodies littered the street, flooding it crimson and copper. King Ezekiel held out a hand palm down, fingers together and Shiva crouched.

Gavin stood wide eyed, disbelieving and confused as to what just happened. His mouth was agape as he registered his fellow Saviors on the ground, unmoving and silent.

"What the hell-?" He began, but a growl caused the end of his words to stick in his throat.

"Never underestimate a fool for his arrogance will always overestimate him."

King Ezekiel's hand balled into a fist and in that split second, Shiva was bounding into the air, her large paws descending onto her target as her sharp nails anchored him in place. Gavin's screams were visceral as he was ripped apart, the once skinny rivulets of red now evolving into frothing rivers of blood that pooled the asphalt. Distant shots were a melodious background noise as the devoured Savior's screams dwindled to gurgles, overcome by the disquiet of ripping flesh.

"Shiva," her master ordered, and she halted her feast; not quite satisfied, but biddable nonetheless.

Richard stalked over to the body, looking down at the dead open eyes without a hint of remorse. He aimed his gun and pulled the trigger, a single bullet hole opening the side of the dead man's forehead.

"Like shooting fish in a barrel."

"Guess they'll be late to their fish fry," Jesus said as he pulled a helmet off of his head, his long hair held back in a ponytail. He inhaled a lungful of fresh air.

King Ezekiel smirked at him before addressing his soldiers. "Make haste to the entrance and ensure all of our enemies have been neutralized; conceal the carnage and their accouterments."

As the Kingdom soldiers went about their tasks, Jesus headed up the street to a manhole cover, using a nearby crowbar to hoist it up and off of the access point to the Kingdom's underground passage. It was the same one Daryl and Everly had traversed when they first arrived and where they, along with Maggie and Sasha, had hidden during the impromptu visit of the Saviors. They climbed out of the hole, one at a time, relieved yet anxious.

"I never want to go down there again." Sasha took in a deep breath, willing her nerves to steady.

"Trust me, you'd rather be down there than up here witnessing what I just saw. It wasn't pretty," Jesus responded.

"Are they all dead?" Maggie asked, looking a short ways down the road at the small crowd of bodies lying on the ground. Multiple Kingdomers watched on as the soldiers began to drag them away.

"The ones in here are. Richard and a few others are making sure those who stayed outside are too."

"Are we sure Negan won't find out too soon?" Everly asked, clutching onto Daryl's right arm protectively.

"The bastard will find out sooner than we'll want 'im to." He looked down at her.

Jesus agreed. "But luckily the dumbass he sent in his place called in to him while he was still here. That bought us some time."

"Well, it's a good thing we're already prepared," Maggie observed and waved them all on. "Let's get moving. Time's a wastin'."

Daryl held Everly back as she started after the others and she gazed up at him questioningly.

"I want you to stay here," he said, anticipating the backlash he knew would come after his request.

Her eyebrows lowered in response. "No."

"Everly," Daryl warned, but she tried to yank out of his grasp unsuccessfully.

"You are not leaving me here," she argued.

"I don't want to leave you here, but I don't want you out there neither." He tightened his hold on her wrist to stop her from struggling to get away.

"Don't do this. Not now." Angry tears began to form in her eyes, and he pulled her into him, his fingers running gently in her hair as she hugged his waist.

"You two can stay here," Maggie said, startling Daryl. He hadn't noticed they'd stopped to wait for them.

"I wouldn't do that to y'all," Daryl refused, but the pregnant widow shook her head.

"You guys haven't even been out of that shithole for twenty-four hours yet. We'll get things started, rile up some feathers. You two rest before you join the fight. You're gonna need it."

Daryl hesitated, wanting to go with them but not wanting to abandon Everly either. He refused to let her accompany them, not when she was the safest she'd been in months. He wasn't going to risk the chance of losing her in exchange for the comfort of her staying by his side. Getting even with Negan didn't matter as much as that to him.

"You guys go on. We'll stay here," he finally made up his mind and Everly smiled up at him, pleased.

Maggie nodded with a smile of her own. "We'll be back hopefully some time tonight or tomorrow."

"Which reminds me," Jesus crossed his arms as he came up to Maggie's side, "shouldn't you be staying here, too?"

She mimicked his pose and stared him straight in the eye. "Are you discriminatin' against a pregnant woman?"

"Not discriminating," Jesus smirked, "looking out for. You'll thank me when you give birth to a screaming bundle of joy with all your limbs intact and your head still on your shoulders."

"This isn't what we discussed." Maggie's cheeks flushed in anger.

"And I apologize," Jesus said sincerely. "But Sasha and I aren't going to let you come either."

Maggie whipped around to face Sasha who looked slightly abashed but kept her head up high.

"It's what's best for you and the baby," she said, and Maggie scoffed.

"This is how you're goin' to treat me? You guys need me!" She threw her hands up.

"Alive," Jesus put his hand on her shoulders. "We're coming back for you, all of you. Let us handle the hard part first and then we'll be back. I promise."

"Fine," Maggie surrendered grumpily. "But you two better be back here by tonight or early tomorrow mornin'. No ifs, ands, or buts about it."

"Yes, ma'am," Jesus answered, and he and Sasha strode off to ready themselves to leave.

"It's for the best," Everly spoke softly, hoping to calm down her friend.

Maggie nodded, running a hand through her short hair, but the look of utter infuriation remained perfectly in place on her features.

"I can't stay here and do nothin'," Maggie said. Now it was her turn to get teary eyed.

"You're doing something now," Everly pointed out, untangling herself from Daryl to put a soothing hand on Maggie's arm. "You're taking care of you and your baby first. That's the most important thing. Everything else can wait."

She sniffled. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."

"Let's go rest," Everly told her and looked back at Daryl. "We still have a few plans to go over before they get back. The most specific one being how we're going to use all the shit Dwight brings back."

"Blow off some fucking heads is how," Maggie muttered as she trudged along with her friends to their rooms.

* * *

"How ya holdin' up, buddy?" Kai leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed as he watched the subject of his question struggling to get dressed.

"Just damn fine," Dwight snapped, wincing as he gingerly pulled his jacket sleeve up to his tender shoulder. He took a deep breath before standing up, his body practically throbbing all over from the small effort of getting dressed.

Kai smirked, laughing to himself. "Man, you've really fallen by the wayside and this thing has barely gotten started. Negan called this morning, wantin' some sort of update that I couldn't provide… He's hardboiled on findin' ya, and I can't decide whether to hang ya out to dry or…push you down harder in the mud."

"I fall, so do you." Dwight sighed silently through his nose as he holstered his weapons and made a point of no looking the other man in the eye. "Is he planning on coming here?"

"Not right away. He trusts me to do what's right."

Dwight snorted as a tense silence filled the room. He continued to get ready for the day as Kai watched him, both men growing annoyed with the other.

"Am I doin' what's right, Dwight?" Kai asked finally. There was an edge to his voice and hardness in his jaw that offset the casualness of his relaxed demeanor; a show of trying to appear calm when he was anything but.

Dwight shrugged his good shoulder, finally meeting the larger man's eye. "Whether you are or not, you made the decision. Whatever happens is on you, too."

He walked to the door to leave, but Kai blocked him, his large chest forming a barrier that Dwight had no ability to move even in an uninjured state.

"That don't sit too well with me," Kai's eyes burned.

"And how the fuck is that my problem?" Dwight came back heatedly. "You wanted to be a leader, _demanded_ it from a source that had no means to give to you, but gave it to you anyway. I'm trying my best to hold up that promise, and you're not exactly making it easy on me here." Dwight sighed heavily, stepping back to take a deep breath. "We can't win this if we don't do it together. We won't get what we want and neither will you."

Kai studied him a few seconds, rolling his jaw from side to side. "I ain't dyin' for you, Dwight."

"You don't have to, but you aren't going to stand by while _we_ die for _you_. That isn't the way this is going to work either."

The night before, Kai had lain awake, indecisive and restless as he contemplated Dwight's haphazard arrival. He'd gone over the situation in his mind a hundred times, examining it from all angles as he tried to find a narrative that best fit him. He could kiss this chance at being the sole commander goodbye and turn Dwight into Negan, or throw him out to fight his own war, weaponless. He could help him out like he said he would, provide him with what was promised but stay on the sidelines, obscure. Setting him up was another option, leaving Kai to kill two birds with one stone. That would be an even bigger mess to clean up, but it had the potential to turn coal into diamonds... In the end, there were many conclusions he could see going his way and there were others that he didn't. He wasn't a man that liked to give up; however, he also wasn't stubborn enough to keep going when the disadvantages outweighed the benefits. His leadership and ruthlessness might be a mirror image of Negan's, but his sense of self-importance was much more inflated.

"Hey," came Trevor's voice from behind Kai's back. He stepped to the side to let the smaller guy into the room. "Some of Negan's trucks are here."

"Fuck," Dwight mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll take care of it." Kai gave Dwight a lingering stare. "Why don't ya two stay up here and, oh, I don't know, not fuck things up for a change? Yeah?"

He rolled his eyes as he left the room and stomped down the hallway, to the stairwell, and down to the main floor. His guards had already opened the gates to let Negan's trucks through, so they had nearly made it to the front of the grand hotel before he reached the lobby doors. He waited and watched them by pass the parking lot and roll through the awning that covered the concrete driveway, his heart racing a hundred beats per minutes as the caravan parked in front of him.

 _What's the decision, boss?_ He asked himself. _Play it by ear, knucklehead. But be smart about it._ A huge part of him really wanted to see this through despite its sloppy start.

Kai squinted his eyes, the sky bright but slightly overcast. It was a warm day and not too hot; basically perfect weather for enjoying the outdoors, but couple it with his rising anxiety and there were sure to be sweat stains on his undershirt by the time the sun went down.

The doors opened and people with guns exited each vehicle. People he didn't recognize. His eyes narrowed further as a long-haired, bearded man approached him, a forthcoming smile on his young face. He held out his hand as he approached Kai.

"Uh, hello. My name is Jesus. You must be Kai?"

Kai stayed a statue, looking over the guy who just introduced himself and the people he was with. There was clear confusion on his face as his blue eyes scuttled from one face to the next as well as to the weaponry they openly carried with them.

"The fuck you say your name was?" He asked, meeting Jesus' gaze again.

"My real name is Paul, but I go by Jesus." He dropped his unfilled hand. "I'm sure the reason must be obvious."

"You work for Negan?"

"No," Jesus smiled wider with a short chuckle. "We're here for Dwight, and to meet you."

Kai's eyebrows lifted in surprised. How did they get so many of Negan's trucks? He knew Dwight had taken three, but only one had survived after last night's ordeal. Had something bigger already happened?

He shifted back, moving aside to allow his guests entry. "After me."

They all crowded into the conference room as Dwight and his men sneaked down to meet with them, avoiding as many Somerset residents as possible. That hadn't been too hard to accomplish when they'd first arrived in the dead of night, but the daytime was a bit more difficult. Luckily, a few Kingdomers remained in the lobby as well as outside to survey the grounds which was just the distraction the former Saviors had needed to make it to the ground floor undetected. Some of the Somerset soldiers were confused and on edge. They hadn't seen these people before, but they came in Negan's trucks and carried his weapons. They didn't question their leader, choosing to trust Kai's judgment. Only those who had been torn from their home knew who they were, but discretion was the word, not to mention survival. So, they ducked down their heads and went on about their business along with the other soldiers; all of them but one.

"Who are those people?" Tricia stopped a lone guard, indicating down the hall to the conference room with a tip of her chin.

"The Saviors. They're having a meeting with Kai," he informed her.

"Why wasn't I notified?" She demanded.

The guard swallowed. "We were advised not to."

Tricia lowered her eyebrows and glanced down the hallway once more. She saw two armored soldiers standing on either side of the conference door. They were not people she'd ever seen before and she'd never known the Saviors to wear any visible armor, if any.

"You're dismissed."

The soldier started off down the hall before she changed her mind and called him back, meeting him halfway as he walked over to her.

"Keep your eyes out for these people. I'm not sure what Kai is doing with them, but something is off. Get Liam and Warner to help scope them out and update me if you find anything suspect."

"Will do," the guard nodded and headed off to his assignment.

The second-in-command turned back around and contemplated introducing herself to the assemblage, but ultimately thought better of it. She was going to do some snooping of her own and find out as much as she could. Kai had been acting weird lately, becoming more distant with her and secretive. She'd been suspicious of him, but she couldn't quite place a finger on a reason why. This was her red flag. Something _definitely_ wasn't right here and she was going to find out why.

* * *

I sat on the bed, drying my hair and relaxing my muscles as best as I could. The warm bath had helped release the soreness and tension out of my limbs, but I was still stiff in some places which didn't help to alleviate any of my old injuries. I didn't mind the pain so much, however. King Ezekiel allowed us some aspirin to take off the edge, and I was looking forward to a much needed nap before things went to shit. Daryl and I especially needed our strength for what was going to come next and my heart rate spiked just thinking about it.

The door opened suddenly, startling me as I sat straight up, wide eyed. It was Daryl, coming in with only a towel around his waist after taking a bath of his own. His body was black and purple, red welts covering any place bruises didn't. My chest nearly caved in looking at him, but admiration filled it back up instantly. He was so strong, so capable. I would never be able to withstand what he had these few months; these last couple of weeks. I'd been through my own hell but Daryl had taken on much worse. He was everything I wanted to be.

"Hey," he smiled softly as he shut the door and went to the dresser where fresh clothes lay waiting for him.

I said nothing and stood up, padding over to him as he faced away from me. I ran gentle fingertips over his back, tracing his scars and wounds; a tattoo on his shoulder. Goosebumps formed on his skin where I touched and he shivered, catching my hand in his as he turned to look down at me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, swallowing down a lump. "You shouldn't have had to endure this… Not for me."

He cupped my cheek. "There ain't nothing to be sorry about. We're in this together. I've bled for you 'n you've bled for me."

"It shouldn't be that way, though," I replied, the guilt still heavy on me.

"I wish it wasn't," he replied sincerely. "But I wouldn't change it for anything else. Not when it means I get to have you."

I smiled at him, feeling entirely grateful to have him in my life as well. We might have found each other eventually, but our shared abduction had definitely expedited our relationship. I would always look back on those several months in the Sanctuary as some of the worst I'd experienced since the world went dark, but I would always find the light that Daryl had radiated during those cold moments. His had been the brightest I'd ever seen.

"I love you," I told him, standing up on the balls of my feet to kiss him.

"Love you, too," he murmured against my lips.

He held me close, his skin still damp but warm through the oversized button up shirt I wore. His mouth moved against mine, slow but wanting and I wanted him too. The next few days were going to be unpredictable, and once the fighting started, there was no telling who would come out of it whole or alive. It didn't want to go through with it. There was this cowardly part of me that wanted to take Daryl's hand and run, never looking back. But neither of us would abandon those we cared about, no matter how scared we were.

Abruptly he pulled away, something evidently on his mind as he avoided my gaze. I frowned, trying to read his thoughts, but I couldn't get through to them.

"What's wrong?" I asked, worried.

He didn't speak, clearly working out what words he wanted to use but failing to find the ones he wanted. He sighed, turning his head to look out the window before his eyes gazed down at me from the side.

"I don't want to rush you, Everly," he said, and I furrowed my brows further, confused.

"What do you mean?"

He gripped my hips, tugging on them gently before he answered. "He videotaped you."

My eyes widened, not fully understanding what he was saying but inferring things I didn't want to be true.

"He brought me the tape, wanted me to watch it…but I couldn't." His chest hitched. "He raped you, Everly."

My heart was pounding in my ears. I knew the words he was speaking, but I couldn't hear them. I felt a tingling all over my skin and it weighed me down, like I was drunk without having had a drink. I didn't know how to respond.

"He…He video…"

"I smashed the fuckin' thing," Daryl butted in, holding my face in both of his hands. "I destroyed it, okay? It's alright."

He kissed my forehead, but I felt lightheaded and weak. What did he mean, Negan videotaped me? Videotaped what? Nothing had happened. Nothing. There wasn't anything to videotape other than him being a persistent creep.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said monotonously. "He never raped me."

Daryl was confused now. "He showed me."

"You just said you couldn't watch it, that you destroyed it." I was hanging onto those facts. "He was lying. There wasn't anything on that tape."

"Everly," Daryl said, not seeming to be convinced but not wanting to argue against me.

"It's true," I persisted, my eyes beginning to sting.

"Okay," he said, hugging me again and holding my head to his shoulder.

After the buzzing sound left my ears and I regained myself, I pulled away to meet his eyes.

"You believe me, don't you?"

Daryl ran a single hand through my damp hair. "Yes."

His face was straight, no hint of dishonesty in his eyes, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't. I might not if I were in his shoes either.

"Make love to me," I said, pulling away to yank him toward the bed.

"Everly." He resisted halfheartedly as he stumbled after me.

I grabbed the towel around his waist and his hand was on mine in an instant, holding it in place.

"Slow down," he reasoned.

I looked up at him with pleading eyes. "I don't know how much time we have left with each other. I don't want our last moments alone to be like this. I want it to be us enjoying ourselves, not crying over what we can't change or what never happened. I _want_ to be with you."

He didn't move for a while, staring down at me as he considered the next move to make. He wanted me, I could feel as much through the towel, but he was being too solicitous; not wanting to hurt me. I let go of the towel, not wanting to pressure him either, and if he pushed me away again, I would stop. But I would try one last time and hoped to get the response both of us wanted – needed.

I pecked his cheek lingeringly as I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed myself against him. Slowly, I moved toward his mouth and his hands found my waist, inching up my back. When my lips met his, they moved softly, patiently, and he responded immediately, matching my gentle movements with his own.

My hands ran over his shoulders and down to his biceps as our kiss deepened, and I moved backward, guiding us to the edge of the bed. Our mouths still locked, I put one leg on the mattress and then the other, goading him with my hands to step closer. My fingers ran over his stomach, descending to the cotton towel around his hips. I hesitated, waiting for him to stop me, but when he didn't, I tugged on the cloth until it loosened and fell to the floor.

I broke from him, catching his eyes with my own as I felt for him. He was stiff, the flesh warm and pulsing, and he inhaled sharply as my palm began to shift up and down. I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing as we held eye contact. I liked watching him, seeing his eyelids starting to droop and his mouth beginning to hang open as his breathing increased. It made me feel sexy and in control; secure.

I bent down, craving more of him, and I caught the reddened tip of his glistening head between my lips, flicking my tongue over the slit. He bucked gently, shifting forward as he sank deeper into my mouth with a fist in my hair and I welcomed him completely, finally satisfied. With one hand, I held his hip as the other worked in correspondence with my mouth, occasionally dipping down to massage the rounded, firm flesh underneath.

His moans filled the room, causing a wet tightness to contract between my bare thighs. I imagined him inside of me as I maintained a steady rhythm with my mouth, willing myself to bring him in deeper with each stroke. It wasn't an easy feat, but I focused on my breathing, and when he hit the back of my throat, he quickly withdrew.

"I won't last much longer," he admitted, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow.

I unbuttoned the top of my shirt and pulled it off of me, throwing it to the side. I grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the bed, forcing him to sit on the edge while I straddled his hips. He grabbed my thighs as I kissed him. I hadn't dressed all the way after bathing, which I was infinitely thankful for as my patience completely broke once I felt his length against me. I couldn't wait anymore.

With a tilt, I lifted up and sat on him, pushing myself entirely down on him in one go. I sighed heavily into his open mouth, my fingers digging into his hair as I started to rock against him, eager and desperate.

"Daryl," I moaned his name and bit his lip.

He kissed me in fervor, bucking his hips up as mine came down and wrapping an assisting arm around my waist. I wasn't far from where I needed to be, but Daryl seemed to be reaching his sooner as he crushed me to his chest, moving me up and down on top of him faster. It was a race both of us wanted to win, but I'd given him a head start.

When he started to push me off, I held onto him tightly, preventing him.

"No," I groaned as I sat flush against him.

He convulsed then, his pelvis snapping up into mine in quick jerks as he growled low in his throat. I followed quickly after, reveling in the feeling of him throbbing inside of me. I panted against his lips as I rode out my high, pulsing and wishing this moment could last longer. Quaking over him, my hips slowed to a stop and I rested my forehead on his as I caught my breath.

Daryl swallowed thickly as his breathing began to slow. He pulled back a bit to look at me, his eyes glazed over but concerned.

"Why'd you do that?"

"I don't know," I answered, avoiding his gaze. "I just wanted to. I'm sorry."

His thumb ran in circles on my ribs, and he didn't express any disappointment. He placed his lips against my temple and nuzzled into me, which I took to mean he forgave my careless transgression. But the truth was that I had done it on purpose. If it all ended tomorrow, I needed for him to be the one I felt inside of me.

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **It is here! This is a pretty long one. The longest I've ever written. I usually stop my chapters between 10 and 12 pages and this chapter is 21 pages. So, it's basically two chapters in one. I'm going to do the same for the next one which I will strive to post on this upcoming Monday. Fingers crossed.**

 **To my guest reviewer, thank you, and I hope the end of this chapter was all that you wished for. I got you, fam. (I'd planned on it anyway, haha.)**

 **Thank you all!**


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64**

The sun was high in the sky before the Saviors stopped looking, a distant burning mass that was intense and domineering like an overprotective mother; it followed them everywhere. Negan had allowed Andy to lead the pusual, choosing to stay back and not employ much effort in the task. He wasn't there to turn over furniture and crawl into dark places; he had lackeys for that. He was only there in case Daryl and Everly were found and to show the Alexandrians that he was serious about locating the two. He might be cool as a cucumber soaked in ice on the outside, but his middle was current;y a geyser, boiling and building up heat.

Whoever coined the phrase "don't lose your cool" clearly never experienced what it was like to contain pure internal fury. To feel it churn mercilessly inside of you from an infinite pit of resentment and violence. It wasn't "the cool" you were afraid to lose, because that was just the cover; it was the heat.

 _Don't lose control of your heat, or you might just scorch every motherfucker around._ That's how the saying should go. It seemed more…defined, accurate. Negan felt he could collect his cool. He was by no means a "nice guy" despite the convictions with which he used to control others and make them bend to his power; like presenting a genial and calm façade with a bat of an eye. His easy charm had gotten him very far in life. However, containing his heat while he was this enraged, that was a different story. It was like hoping a teeming volcano wouldn't blow when ash and embers were already spewing out of the top. And once it erupted, everyone was in the line of fire, and no one was safe.

"We didn't find anything, sir." He heard Andy's report ringing in his ears, and he forced shut the gusher that stewed furiously under his forged calmness.

Before negan could respond, his walkie crackled, and he heard Gavin's voice speak out of it.

"Gavin to Negan. The Kingdom is clear. We'll be heading back up north shortly."

As the radio cut off, Negan blew hot air through his nose, calming himself. Where the fucking fuck could they be?

"Update me if you find anything," was his curt reply. He didn't have the patience to say anything else. He looked at Andy. "You'll be staying here for another week. I'll provide additional Saviors to make the task easier on you. Do not let any shithead in or out of this place unless one of you goes with them."

"Yes, sir," Andy replied. If he was disappointed at all about his extended retreat in Alexandria, he didn't show it.

"And have them stop digging that stupid fucking moat." Negan pointed to the gate. "It's a waste of fucking time."

"Definitely, sir. I'll be sure to put them to work on something else."

"Preferably on finding some shit to give to me," he replied. "I came here looking for three things and I'm leaving without a damn single one."

"I apologize. It won't happen again." Andy had the decency to look embarrassed. He'd been so busy making sure the Alexandrians stayed in line that he didn't pay attention to what they should have been doing.

"You're doing a good job," Negan forced out a compliment despite wanting to bite his tongue off. "Prove to me you can do better."

He smacked Andy on the shoulder hard twice, a small and silent ending remark that was more of a warning than a farewell gesture. He called to his Saviors, gathering them up by the door to give final orders before he went back to the Sanctuary. He didn't want to go home. Being idle was not being useful, even if he did feel discouraged at the moment, but he couldn't press himself any more than he'd had. Something bad was in the works deep inside of him and he had to control that first before it became any worse.

"One thing before I go." He turned away from his men and approached the young woman named Tara. She looked nervous as he halted in front of her. "I'm not entirely convinced you guys aren't hiding something from me. You can't smell bullshit without checking under your shoes and you certainly don't stop looking when you can't find the source. So, until I find out where the shit smell is coming from, I'll take me a little refresher." His eyes flicked to Eugene a few feet behind Tara. "Well, he ain't so little, but refreshing enough, I suppose."

Eugene looked around in befuddlement.

"You can't," Tara pleaded, but shut her mouth when Negan looked down at her.

"I will." He smiled, his teeth shining in the sunlight. "Come on, thumbsucker. Let's take a ride."

"Eugene!" Tara called to him ad two Saviors bracketed his sides, grabbing his arms and pushing him toward the warped gate.

He looked back at her frightened, but he walked forward without a fight. He didn't know what to do otherwise. What else _could_ he do?

"Ah, don't get your giant fucking tits all in a twist." Negan waved his gloved hand at her. "He'll be all right. I'll fucking take care of him, I swear. I don't fuck too hard with people I like, and boy, do I like Eugene. He's got that awkward teddy bear thing going on which I find funny as fuck. A kid in a grown-up costume one might say, but smart as a whip. I think I can make a man out of him."

"Take me instead. I don't mind. Just leave Eugene," Tara tried again, desperate. She felt responsible for all of this and she couldn't let Eugene be a prisoner. It wasn't fair.

"Nah." Negan shook his head and looked her over. "You seem interesting, but I don't know you enough to give you a first date. Maybe next time." He winked. "Tell Rosita it was a pleasure… And give Rick my wishes for a speedy recovery."

He turned, strutting over Alexandria's threshold and past his gathering men. His two Saviors who held Eugene waited for instructions on where to put him when Negan pointed to his truck. Without a word, they escorted the dismayed man to the passenger door and shoved him inside. A single quick whistle from their leader beckoned the rest of them to get into their vehicles; all except the ones who were staying behind.

"Don't leave yet," Negan said to the Savior behind the wheel as he swung inside the cabin next to Eugene. He slammed the door, exhaling as he slouched in the seat in an attempt to relax.

The newest member sat rigid in his seat, staring out of the windshield in an open attempt to remain impassive, but the sweat that pooled at his hairline and leaked down his doughy face betrayed him.

"You ever had a friend, Eugene?" Negan asked in an overtly friendly way. "And I don't mean any of those dick-fucks back there because they don't count. You were forced to get to know them, but I'm talking about someone you truly wanted to know and enjoyed being with. You ever have a friend like that?"

Eugene cleared his throat and kept his eyes ahead of him. "If you're implying if I've ever had relations with a woman, then no."

Negan laughed. "That's sad to fucking hear, but what exactly is a friend to you? Someone to fuck?"

"N-no," the socially feeble man stuttered. "I just assumed that was what you were insinuating. Excuse my discourtesy."

"No, cut that shit out." Negan sat up. "Don't apologize all the damn time, it's pointless."

"Sor-" Eugene began, but took a deep breath. "Alright then."

"You know," Negan began, twisting his torso to face Eugene, "you shouldn't be nervous about coming to the Sanctuary. It ain't a punishment, it's an honor. Do you feel honored?"

"Yes, sir," Eugene answered strongly. He watched a lone brown leaf scuttle over the asphalt. "I have had friends before. Good ones, in fact."

"I'm glad to hear it." Negan smiled a toothy smile; a predatory one. "You know what makes companionship impenetrable, though, right?"

Eugene glanced at Negan form the corner of his eyes, unsure. He shook his head, beads of sweat burning his eyes as he blinked and looked straight again.

"Honesty," the leading Savior said, letting the fact sink in. "Now, when you agreed with that big busted chick back there, Tara, about not knowing where Daryl and Everly are…are you being honest with me?"

Eugene nodded earnestly but silently.

"You're not chaffing my balls either when you guys tell me you aren't up to anything?"

"No, sir." Eugene could hear a slight tremor in his voice.

Negan smiled, tonguing the corner of his mouth as he watched the waterfall streaming down the portly man's face. "You wanna be _my_ friend, Eugene?"

Eugene hesitated, indecision holding him back as his eyes followed the same dead leaf trying to outrun the wind. Agreeing to be friends with Negan was a dangerous concept, maybe more so than just being a neutral and submissive acquaintance. Being a friend would mean making a promise. A promise Eugene was not prepared to give, but he didn't know how to refuse. He truly didn't know where Daryl and Everly were, that much was factual, but he did know other things. Things that Negan would not be too pleased to hear and would put everyone he cared about and liked in mortal danger if they were disclosed.

Negan chuckled at his silence. "You don't have to answer right now. You can mull it over if it's that difficult for you, but I'm choosing to bite the bullet and trust you, Eugene, and that comes mighty hard for me these days. I feel like we can have a true friendship, you and me, but it can't go anywhere if you're not truthful with me. You've never told a lie, have you?"

Eugene broke his stare from the blowing leaf in the road to catch Negan's eye. He was fearful and self-conscious.

Negan leaned closer and continued. "You've never looked someone in the eye and made them believe something that wasn't real? Never pretended to be something you weren't?"

The Alexandrian looked at his hands in his lap and saw them trembling. He curled his fingers into each other, sheltering them tightly in his wet palms. "No, sir."

"That's good, Eugene. That's a good start. I think you and I are going to work very well together, but if I find out you're lying to me right now…" Negan's breath fluttered over the moisture on Eugene's neck, cooling him, and he cringed away, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'll gut you like a fucking fish and drape your innards on my front fucking door like a holiday wreath."

The other man held back a whimper, a trapped sound that never left his throat but was audible nonetheless. It made Negan smile again; brought a sense of pride to him as he sat back in his seat and draped a lazy arm out of the window.

"So, is there anything you want to share with me before we start back?" He asked, and Eugene sighed, looking resigned. He opened his eyes, his chin wobbling as he gazed out of the windshield once more at the barren road ahead.

"No," he said resolutely. "Absolutely nothin'."

Negan scoffed a short laugh, unsatisfied but not ready to give up. He looked at the driver who understood to start the ignition and drive.

"Enjoy the ride." He sat back, resting his aching head against the headrest as he closed his eyes. "You never can tell if it'll be the last one that you'll take."

* * *

Tricia walked around the hotel lobby, trying to ascertain where she should begin to piece together this puzzle. The main heart of the problem was in the conference room guarded by two people she swore could not be Negan's troops. Something was off about them; they didn't look right. They looked determined and anxious; like they were waiting for something bad to happen. They wouldn't let her into the room, especially if Kai had ordered for her to be excluded.

 _What is going on, you bastard? Why are you leaving me out of this? What is so important that you can't share?_ She thought furiously.

The rubber treading of her soles fell in rhythm with her heartbeat as she stomped over the glossed tile. Kai might not allow her into the meeting, but she was going to hear their conversation and learn of their dealings, permissible or not. This community was as much hers as it was his. She was a co-leader, too, and that meant she had authority over what happened in it. It didn't matter what Kai wanted or how important he thought he was.

Reaching the security room door, she withdrew a skeleton key from her pocket and unlocked it. The guard inside twirled in his computer chair to face her as she entered and she ordered him out. He didn't say anything to her, obeying her commands at will and without question.

 _See?_ She told Kai telepathically in self-defense. _I am important here._

She sat in the chair which was still warm and indented, getting comfortable and scooching nearer to the desk as she studied the many keys and monitors at her disposal. The multifaceted windows blinked at her, oscillating from one picture to the next. There were many cameras in this hotel. There had to be with how expansive it was, and to Somerset Hotels, security had been a vital thing when the world was still functional. But while she had taken the time to study each corner of the grounds in person, she never really had stepped foot inside here other than to peruse the room when she had first come.

"Come on." She mentally cursed herself for shooing out the guard so quickly. She should have asked him to give her a quick lesson on scrolling through the cameras and zoning in on the one she needed.

Tricia thought that maybe if she started to press some buttons she might figure something out. She'd never been tech savvy, but she knew enough to know which buttons were okay to push and which ones may be questionable. She spied a headset perched above the long keyboard and slipped them on. She'd need them to hear every word if she wanted to learn what was so secret that she couldn't be part of its revelation.

It took a few minutes, but she figured out how to switch back and forth between cameras. Each monitor was labeled with an area of the grounds: Area A (front lobby), Area B (basement), Area C (front gates and field), and so forth. She looked at each one, trying to decide which would lead to the inside of the conference room. She chose Area A first since the conference room was located right outside of the lobby, but with no luck. She cursed and tried again, choosing Area E (hallways and maintenance) this time, but that was a dead end, too.

 _Another one_. _Try them all_ , she told herself and chose Area D (personnel). At first, she came across empty rooms, then a few that were occupied by Somerset soldiers set about one task or the next. When she thought she'd hit another brick wall, she found it, gasping as Kai came on the screen along with about a dozen others. Dwight was there, and she dented her brow in confusion. She hadn't seen him come in. When did he get here?

She couldn't hear anything through the headphones, and she grew desperate as she felt the time to discover the truth was emptying to the bottom of an hourglass. She hit one button, then the next with no results. Muting and unmuting the computer did nothing either. She grabbed the headset on her ears, intent on taking them off to examine them when she felt a button and pressed it. Suddenly, she heard voices and her stomach clenched as she was able to finally listen in on the seemingly private conversation.

 _"I'll head out east to the herd that's still drifting about around there. Trevor, John, Kurt, Tom, and Josue will go with me. Once we have everyone here on the same page as us, they'll start to hit Negan's outposts, wiping them out."_ Dwight glanced in the direction of a very bearded and long-haired man. _"Jesus, you'll go back to the Hilltop and convert them. From there, go to Alexandria and take it back. We can't do this without them."_

"What the _fuck_?" Tricia asked herself. What in the hell were they planning? Wipe out Negan's outposts? What did that fucking mean?

 _"The plan is,"_ Dwight continued to instruct the whole room, _"to cripple him while we're ahead. He won't have much of an army to fight back with if most of them are dead. He'll get wind of what's going on way before we want him to, but he's already got a whole team, maybe even half of the Sanctuary, out looking for me, Daryl, and Everly. We've already killed a portion of them. From here, we hit as hard as we can until they're mostly, if not all, eliminated."_

A few people around the table and standing to the side let out a subdued cheer. Dwight grinned while Kai remained impassive, astute.

 _What are you thinking, you asshole? Why are you in on this?_ Tricia narrowed her eyes at the form on the monitor.

The burned man sat forward, leaning his elbows on the table as he dipped his head privately before looking back up.

 _"Once we start this, there's no going back. We've got to see this to the end,"_ he said, taking time to look at everyone. _"Kai here is agreeing to give us very strong arms and means to win this. When it's all done, and Negan is_ dead _,"_ Dwight's tone lowered on that particular word, _"he's going to take over the Sanctuary as leader, and with him, we'll have something to actually work towards and live for."_

 _Oh, you sneaky son of a bitch_ , she scoffed a derisive laugh and said aloud, "I should've known. Nothing is ever good enough for you, is it, Kai? Not me, not the countless other women you've plowed through. Not even the large sum of power you've already got. Incorrigible."

She shook her head as she continued to listen, her anger growing in capsizing waves as she witnessed the betrayal.

 _"Does anyone have objections to that?"_ The backstabbing bastard asked.

"I'd melt the other half of your face off if I could," Tricia mumbled, her teeth clenching as she watched no one speak against the notion.

 _"Great. Then, let's go over our plans one last time before we adjourn."_

Tricia had heard enough. She muted the headset and tore them off her ears. She sat fuming for a few long seconds, trying to understand why this was happening. Negan had been nothing but a generous, albeit demanding, leader. He gave as much as he took, and while she knew his methods weren't always ones that those weak at heart would understand, they had a purpose, a reason. It kept them all alive and safe. And what were these cuckolds doing? Trying to take it away. They were going to ruin everything.

"Not today," she said with a glower at the screen and bounded up from her chair and out of the door.

* * *

Kai was mostly quiet through the whole meeting, setting the stage up for Dwight to take the spotlight. All of this was his idea after all. He was the mastermind and the one these people had come to see. He agreed every now and then, not really having too much to argue against. It seemed Dwight had stayed up late last night thinking everything through, much like he had about turning him in. But he was glad he'd given him the chance to redeem himself. Hearing about the deaths of a few of the Saviors already was enough to restore some of the faith he'd lost.

"That about sums it up." Dwight's conclusion interrupted his thoughts. "Kai will remain here with half of his soldiers in case anything should arise. They'll be our back-up."

"So, you're not going to get your hands dirty, huh?" A particularly attractive black woman directed at Kai who smiled back charmingly.

"Not really my style, cupcake. You're welcome to stay back with me if ya want. We don't even have to swap names."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll pass, thanks."

"It's important he remains here, Sasha," Dwight told her. "Just like not everyone from our other communities are going to fight. We need people who can run things while we're out there."

"Understandable enough," Jesus cut in. He didn't like the way Kai was looking at Sasha, sizing her up like she was dessert after an unsatisfying meal. "If everyone is prepared, I think we should get a move on now. The day is half-way through, and we've got a lot of prepping to do."

At the behest of the groups agreement, they stood from the chairs and queued up at the door. Jesus remained by Sasha's side, watching Kai as he rounded the table, a sly grin slipping up one side of his face.

"You stay by me," he whispered to her.

She snorted lightly and teased. "Why? Getting jealous?"

"Worried," he corrected. He was willing to work with Kai to overpower Negan, but that was the extent of it until he got to know him better. So far, Kai wasn't making a very good impression on him.

"I'm not afraid of that meathead. He ain't gonna try anything with me," Sasha squinted her eyes at the subject of their discussion. "But we do have to stay civil with him. He's our main ticket out of this hell."

"Then avoid him, because if you keep looking at him like that than anything but courtesy will come out of your mouth."

Sasha smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand, beginning to smile. They waited until the Somerset leader left the room to leave themselves.

"Actually, give me just one second. I'll meet you out there," she told Jesus, who reluctantly agreed with a crease between his eyebrows.

When he finally left, she went up to Dwight who remained behind in the conference room with Trevor. They were waiting for the right time to show themselves.

"I want to do it," she told him.

Dwight released a single breathy laugh. "Do what?"

"I know a way to lead the walkers to Negan without jeopardizing too many lives. There's this van in Alexandria that we use a lot to scavenge. It plays music pretty loudly. It's a great distracter for the dead. Let me get that and meet up with you guys and I can get the horde there in no time. You just need to tell me what ways to go."

Dwight studied the woman, watching her dark eyes dance back and forth with his. She looked desperate; almost charging herself up to argue against the disapproval she thought might come with her request. He did want to tell her no, but who was he to refuse her? They both wanted to same things, and if she was experienced at dealing with the dead in the manner she just described, she might be the best bet of getting them there and cornering Negan before he could do anything about it.

"Okay," Dwight agreed, and Sasha's eyes widened slightly. She smiled and sighed in relief, covering her face with clasped hands.

"Thank you," she said thickly and sniffed. "Really. You don't know how much it means to me."

"It's no problem, but I do have conditions," he revealed. She brought her hands down and listened. "This isn't a suicide mission. You get them there and you get the hell out. You're not a hero; not yet, anyway. And you aren't a damn martyr either. You hear me?"

She nodded, wiping a single tear that fell. "I do."

"Good." Dwight nodded with her. "I'll get you a map and explain everything once we settle things here."

"Ok-" Sasha's word lodged in her throat at the raucous echo of a gun. The three of them looked at each other with wide eyes before rushing out of the room and to the corner of the lobby.

In a row on their knees in front of the main doors were all of the Kingdom and Savior soldiers who had not been included in the meeting. One lay dead, Tricia's smoking gun already aimed at another's head and she scowled dangerously at Kai.

"You want to tell me more lies?" She yelled at him and the group on their knees cowered, bowing their heads but remaining calm. "I heard what you all were up to, you filthy backstabbers. You want to destroy everything we've worked so hard for and I'm not going to let it happen! You are not going to murder Negan!"

The Somerset soldiers kept their guns aimed at the line of bodies as they were commanded, but they began to furrow their brows, feeling confused. Their confusion was expounded even more when their other leader, Kai, began to laugh out loud.

"Oh, man, Tricia. You've really gone off the deep end here. _I'm_ the one who wants to go against Negan? I'm sorry, but if I'm seein' this fuckin' correctly, you're the one who has all of his men drawn up at gunpoint. You're fuckin' crazy."

"Shut up," She bit out through her teeth.

"Naw, I ain't shuttin' the hell up, lady." He looked at his troops. "Stand down, soldiers."

"Stay put!" Tricia screamed, aiming her gun at them. They shrunk back, angry now, but did as was ordered. She trained her gun on Kai. "You think I'm an idiot, but these aren't even Negan's men. I know they defected from the Sanctuary. I heard as much from your secret fucking meeting!"

"Oh, okay. So, _you're_ a spy now? Is that it? A little sneak who digs around in shit looking for gems? I mean, fuck it. When does it fuckin' end? I can trust no one, you can trust no one. Everyone is always lookin' over each other's shoulders." Kai stomped one step forward and bellowed angrily, "Do you even know that the fuck ya're doing here?"

She faulted then, her gun shaking. Did she misinterpret the meeting? Was Kai working on his own tactic while playing the part of another? She steadied the weapon in her hand and laughed. She needed to be certain before she gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm as much a part of this as you are. I run this place, too!" She reached behind her back with her free hand and unclipped the walkie she'd hooked there before beginning this showdown. She held it up for everyone to see. "How about I call Negan and ask him to update me on 'the situation', or whatever the fuck it is since you won't let me in on _anything_ anymore! Maybe I can give him a little update myself on what's going on here, yeah? Does that sound like something I should do? Maybe I'll be running this whole place by myself tomorrow."

Kai started toward her no longer willing to bitch back and forth, but she aimed her gun at a nearby Kingdomer who closed his eyes and prayed silently. Her counterpart halted, his jaw muscles bulging as he crushed his teeth together in rage.

"Take one more step and it'll be another one dead."

Tricia brought the walkie to her mouth, taking a deep breath as she hit the button.

"Don't," Kai whispered, holding out a hand in sudden anticipation. "Let's talk about this."

She shook her head and said / _tr_ / but that was it, because a bullet had blown through the side of her head. The sudden noise had everyone jumping back, gasps falling out of mouths as others were heaving in air. Kai looked to the source of the bullet and saw Dwight standing there, Trevor and the sexy black woman named Sasha behind him.

"Stand down!" He ordered his soldiers once more and they lowered their weapons, asking their leader what the hell was going on. "Give me a fuckin' minute, will ya?"

The Kingdomers and Saviors alike got back to their feet, their legs like semi-cooked noodles after the adrenaline rush they'd just experienced. The Somerset soldiers were whispering to each other, throwing looks of dismay and distrust around while Kai spoke with Dwight. Finally, the leader demanded silence in the room.

"What Tricia said was true," he admitted to a round of shocked faces.

 _So much for saving fucking face and not looking like a traitor,_ he glared at Tricia's limp body. It was too late to pretend that he didn't have a part in this. Even if the newcomers did put on a show and pretended to take over Somerset, they knew Kai was affiliated with them.

"I know a lot of you here didn't come willingly and I was a big reason for that. I would apologize, but I don't believe it'll mean shit to ya. So consider this instead… Dwight came to me in a time of need. He was one of Negan's closest lieutenants, and yes, he betrayed him, but he had his reasons. Good ones. I didn't agree at first, but I heard 'im out, listened to his woes and offered whatever services I could because I began to see it, too… I saw the hurt on your faces, saw how much anger you guys held in your hearts and that hurt me." Kai was speaking out of his ass, but he hoped his silky words would win them over. "I didn't realize how blind I was until Dwight pointed that fact out. So I'm offering you the chance now to fight beside those who suffered the same as you did. I've given them my word for coalition. If you don't agree with that, then you can leave when everything is done. We won't stop you, but fight against us and we will put you down… Are there any questions?"

"What about our children?" A woman called out, worry in her eyes.

"They'll remain safe at the orchard, but like I said, you can see 'em until this shit is over. It's a security issue."

"Security my ass! I want to see my kids!" Someone yelled and others began to agree, growing irate.

"Hey!" Kai barked and there was instant silence. "I'm not fuckin' playin' around with this shit. This is life or fuckin' death, so if you choose fuckin' death then walk out of that goddamn door!"

No one moved or said a word. Kai lowered the finger he had pointed indignantly at the lobby doors and smoothed back the small pompadour of hair on his head. He faced Dwight who looked disappointed, his arms crossed.

"You done?"

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' done," Kai muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Dwight stepped up and addressed the crowd. "In that case, who's ready to fight?"

* * *

It was dusk, the sun slipping past the trees like a child getting under the covers, ready for bed. Daryl and I had spent the majority of the day resting, lying close to each other and spending these last peaceful moments alone. Maggie had stopped by with dinner not too long ago, and I could tell she was becoming more restless as the day became darker. We'd done nothing but wait all day, our breath bated and aching in our lungs. It was times like these that I wished cell phones were still around. A short call, a quick text, anything to let us know what was happening on the outside, but all we could do was look forward to their return.

I was drifting into a dreamless sleep once again, snuggled safely within my lover's strong arms, when our door burst open, Maggie at the handle.

"They're back! Get ready!" She was jubilant and smiling.

Daryl was out of the bed in a matter of seconds, pulling on a clean shirt and jeans over his bare skin. I got out of bed and reached for my own clothes, feeling the cool air pickle over my own nakedness. He caught me by the waist before I could put my shirt on and twirled me around. He was somber, his sapphire eyes soft in the little bit of light that was on.

"I wanna chain you to the bed."

I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Not for that purpose, but that would come later." He kissed me and then whispered. "I don't wanna let you go, but I know you'll hate me if I don't."

"I wouldn't hate you." I ran a hand down his cheek. "I'd just never forgive you."

He snorted. "What's the difference? You'd still bitch at me about it for the rest of our lives."

"Yes," I agreed, "but rightfully so. You aren't leaving me here. I don't care how scared we both are of losing the other. If you die-" I choked and swallowed "-either one of us dies, I want to be together when it happens."

Daryl sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on mine. "That ain't gonna happen."

It was like a mantra he was using to convince himself. I wanted to believe it, too, but I had to be realistic.

"Please, stay here," he tried one last time, and I pecked his lips.

"No."

I twisted out of his arms and got dressed. He sulkily did the same, lacing up his boots on the edge of the bed while I pulled back my hair. When we finally got outside, there was a large crowd waiting. Jesus was giving directions and those he spoke to ran off to their duties as soon as he was done.

"We miss anything?" I asked Maggie as we came up to her side.

"Holy hell, so much." She was beaming. "Everything at Somerset went smoothly."

"Somewhat," Jesus butted in.

"And Dwight's already on his way to corral the horde. He's gonna lead them to the Sanctuary!"

"What does that mean for us?" Daryl asked Jesus.

"We'll go to the Hilltop, get as many people as we can to join us. I waited to come back for Maggie since many of them look up to her; more so than they ever did Gregory."

Maggie scoffed at the mention of his name, but she couldn't keep the grin off her face.

"You can come with, or get ready to hit up Alexandria once we're done there. Shouldn't take us an hour, but I figured you two could inform the Somerset soldiers while we're gone. Save us some time."

I nodded, looking to Daryl for confirmation. He didn't seem to mind either.

"Half of Somerset is already hitting Negan's outposts and it's only a matter of time before he becomes privy to that. He's still got Saviors circling the city like bloodthirsty sharks, so let's see how he reacts before we bring you two out. Sound good?"

"Good enough," Daryl replied gruffly.

"Cool. We'll be back sooner this time," Jesus promised.

Maggie turned to us. "You've got this. All the soldiers staying here are filing into the auditorium with King Ezekiel. You'll give them a rundown there. Let them know what to expect."

"Good luck." I hugged her and clarified. "To all of you. We'll be waiting."

"Thanks," Jesus said.

I gave Sasha a hug. "Be safe," I whispered.

"Always." Her arms tightened around me, holding me few extra seconds.

Then they were gone, and Daryl and I strolled into the old auditorium, ready to take on the roles of commanding sergeants.

* * *

It was fully dark by the time they reached the Hilltop. It had been touch and go at some points, dodging Saviors or ambushing them at a moment's notice. It was only necessary a couple of times, but Maggie was high on the adrenaline. She finally felt useful, like she was conquering something after being in a dark hole for months. She was finally clawing her way the hell out of it.

The Hilltop guards lifted their spears at the late and unexpected sight of Negan's vehicles, but as Jesus and Maggie emerged from one, they lowered their weapons and ordered the gates opened.

"You're back!" Will greeted, a young Hilltop man who was always eager to please and had a pregnant girlfriend. She wasn't as far along as Maggie, but the couple was ecstatic to be parents.

"They are indeed," Gregory called as he came down the mansion steps and across the yard. He gazed at all the parked cars outside of the walls and the countless eyes staring back at him. "And what, might I ask, is all of this?"

"An army," Maggie's smirk was a shining terrestrial star. "And anyone who wants to join us, do so now! We have weapons! Armor! Everything we'll need to take the Saviors down!"

"Hush!" Gregory whispered harshly and waved his hands at her, gazing around anxiously at the cheering crowd. "Do you want to draw ever biter here within shouting distance!"

"I honestly couldn't give a shit, Greg," Maggie admitted.

He glared at her defensively. "You love causing trouble, don't you? That's what gets you up every morning, I can tell. It's also what got your husband killed and left you a knocked-up widow."

She didn't have time to evaluate her decision, whether it would look becoming of her or not. She clenched her right hand into a fist and swung as hard as she could, hitting Gregory in the corner of his disgusting mouth. He fell back, a yell of shock and pain accompanying him. The cheering had already dwindled to a voluminous wave of voices, but they died almost instantly at the sight of their leader on the ground, bleeding by the hands of an angry pregnant woman.

"Don't you _ever_ speak about my husband that way again!" She pointed a warning finger down at him. "If it weren't for you, he might still be alive! You're the one who sent us after Negan with no warnin' whatsoever about what we were getting' ourselves into! You used us!" She screamed.

"Maggie," the Hilltop superior struggled to sit up, dazed.

"No!" She pushed him back down in the dirt with the heel of her boot. "Your time for talking is over. You've already sold us out to the Saviors, don't pretend otherwise."

There were small gasps around the crowd, and Gregory didn't confirm or deny the accusation. He didn't need to.

"I won't permit you to damage anything else or have a hand in snuffin' out anymore lives. You're done."

Maggie signaled for help and two Hilltop men approached the adverse pair. She pointed down at him and the men took both of his arms, dragging him up to his feet.

"Lock him in his room. Make sure he has no means of communication and no way to get out."

"What?" Gregory was flabbergasted, coming to his senses. "This is an outrage!"

He struggled with the men, fought against them with all that he had, but they were younger and stronger. He yelled that they were his men, _his_ people. They were supposed to support and protect him, but his enraged pleas fell on deaf ears. The day for blindly following orders was over. They weren't his anymore. They belonged to themselves and would faithfully serve whomever they chose to lead.

Today, it turned out, they chose Maggie Rhee.

* * *

"They're back," Daniel announced as he burst forth into the auditorium.

Daryl and I had concluded our priming only a few minutes go and were now going over questions each person had and confirming that everyone understood Alexandria's layout, occupants, and history. King Ezekiel took in a deep lungful and sat forward in his throne upon Daniel's news, looking to us for the word to move forward.

"Is everyone prepared to leave? No unasked questions or lingering second-guesses?" I asked the room, turning to meet each eye. When silence remained, I nodded up at the king. "I think we're ready to go."

The king stood up, his maroon colored robe swirling around him. "Then let us venture forth into danger. With the burning light held captive in your hearts, we will see the way to victory. Lead us, warriors. Lead us to ascendance."

I caught Daryl's eye, giving him a sly but self-conscious wink. I wasn't sure I was as great as King Ezekiel believed me to be but I appreciated it nonetheless. Actually, I proudly put all of my confidence into the man at my side. He was the burning light that guided _me_ and subsequently would guide us all tonight. Daryl smirked down at me before waving an arm at the crowd, indicating for them to follow us outside.

"Has anyone scoped out this place recently?" A Somerset soldier matched our stride.

"I'm not sure," I answered honestly. We'd been monitoring the channels of the dead Saviors' radios and most conversations were kept short and specific. Some of them were frantic and disoriented, and that was good. It meant the Somerset people were doing their part, but we'd be better off with more information. "But we do know that Negan has men stationed there just inside of the gate - _if_ they're still there."

"No possibility he's waiting for you there?" The man asked.

"Yes, there's a chance, but that's why we're going in quietly." I glanced up at Daryl. "Maybe we should send a truck ahead, survey the roads there to make sure he hasn't set up any ambushes. There's no way he hasn't searched Alexandria already, but he might think we'll turn up eventually."

"That's a good idea," Daryl agreed.

I looked back at the solider beside us. "Would you be willing to take charge of that?"

"Hell, yeah," he agreed. "Someone's gotta do it."

"Great. Take two men with you, maybe one from your community and one from here. And use the route I told you about. Those roads are less travelled, so you might run into trouble along the way, but keep your objective in mind. If everything looks clear, turn back, and stop after a mile. We'll meet you there shortly."

"Yes, ma'am," the man dipped his head and power walked forward, intent on his mission.

"You're good at this," Daryl complimented, and I blushed.

"I'm just trying to think this through logically, but thanks anyway." In reality, I'd learned a lot of it from watching Negan.

Daryl leaned over and whispered in my ear, "That's what makes you good at this."

I didn't comment back, taking the compliment and treasuring it. Our large group met that of our friends and those from the Hilltop. There were hundreds of us, and that didn't count the rest of Somerset that was going around to Negan's outposts one by one.

"Oh, trust me, there's more of us." Sasha read my expression clearly. "Somerset can't do it alone, so we've got some more hitting outposts near here."

"Maggie was the genius who came up with that." Jesus elbowed her.

"What can I say?" She shrugged. "I'm in a fight-like-hell-with-big-guns kind of mood. Are we ready for this shit?"

"More than fucking ever," I concurred and latched onto Daryl's hand.

We piled into a car, Daryl at the wheel and me beside him in the passenger seat. Jesus, Maggie and Sasha sat behind us, bumping knees and elbows but uncomplaining. I was busy examining the gun Daryl had handed me, keeping it pointed away from everyone and my finger far away from the trigger.

"You point it and shoot," Jesus told me from the back.

"Har har," I mocked over my shoulder, but flashed him a smile. "I know how to use it… Daryl showed me a long time ago." I gazed over at him lovingly and he returned the gesture. "But it has been a while. I wasn't exactly a seasoned user then and I'm definitely not now."

"It's pretty easy, to be honest." Jesus sat on the edge of his seat and leaned over Sasha.

"Personal space!" She whined, but the bearded man ignored her.

He took the weapon and flipped the left side up. "The most important thing to know about this gun is the safety is the trigger. Don't put your finger on it unless you're ready to shoot. It's single-double action, which affects how easy the trigger is to pull, but we'll talk about that later. This little switch here releases your magazine. This gun in particular only holds 15 rounds plus one in the chamber, and they'll go fast if you don't pay attention. You do have extra magazines on you, correct?"

I patted the little satchel at my side.

"Good. Find a way to reach in there quickly when you need to reload. Like this." His arm brushed over mine as he flipped the side of the satchel up, allowing easier access to the contents inside.

"You flirtin' with my girl, Jesus?" Daryl asked teasingly, looking between the road and us.

Jesus didn't look directly at him, but slightly turned his head Daryl's way. "If I had the option to teach _you_ proper gun safety, we'd already be at the part where I show you how to cock it back. Trust me."

Snorts and giggles drifted from the back seat as I held back my own. Daryl seemed surprised albeit confused which made holding down the laughter even harder. Jesus waited for an answer, smiling and swaying with the SUVs movement. He winked at me when Daryl said no more.

"Key word there being cock," Jesus clarified.

"I got it," Daryl replied quickly, leaning against his door.

The three of us couldn't hold it in any longer as Sasha, Maggie, and I erupted into fits of laughter. It was strange to feel this good, to let it take me over and give me comfort even as we traveled to a certain battle. It was almost hysteria, that's how crazy I felt, but I grasped onto the feeling as I grasped onto my side, doubling over from the soreness my laughter caused. And I didn't stop; not until it was all out of me.

For the rest of the ride, Jesus familiarized me with my gun. It was a Sig Sauer P229, one I had actually used before but didn't remember everything about. I was a bit embarrassed by that, but Jesus told me not to worry. When you don't use something every day, it's easy to forget how it works. He was proud of Daryl for giving me a knife as well. It was a simple pocket knife, but it was long and sharp; potentially potent. That's what was vital. I remembered how to use the knife more clearly than the gun. Knifes didn't make me uncomfortable quite as much as guns did, so it was easier to retain that information taught to me many months ago.

"What's the best spot for stabbing someone?" Jesus tested me.

"Uh," I scrunched up my face, "anywhere?"

His brows dropped and his mouth went flat at my answer. I giggled.

"I'm joking. Kidneys, throat, or in the stomach and top it off with a twist."

"Atta girl," Jesus praised. He turned to Daryl. "You've taught her well. I could've spent this entire time flirting with you instead."

"Take a seat," Daryl responded evenly, but I knew he wasn't offended. "We're nearly there."

"Roads have been pretty clear," Maggie pointed out as Jesus sat back with a contented sigh.

"Could be all the walkers nearby have already paid Alexandria a visit after the havoc Negan caused here last time," Sasha concluded, examining the dark surroundings outside of the car.

Daryl slowed the vehicle down to a speedy creep as he came within a mile of Alexandria. I watched the road ahead, anxious for the soldiers who I sent ahead. I was beginning to worry when we didn't see them, the previous glee we'd all been high on quickly deflating.

"They should be around here," my voice shook, and Daryl rested a hand on my shoulder.

"Is that them?" Sasha asked just then.

"Where?" I whipped my head around, my eyes searching frantically for glistening wires and the soft glean of a black leather jacket.

"Right there." Sasha sat forward and pointed as Daryl stopped the car. Twenty feet ahead I saw the reflection of a taillight.

"Drive slow," Jesus cautioned, and Daryl did, moving up to the red reflector at a snail's pace.

Before we could fully reach them, the Somerset man stepped out from the woods, waving his arms in greeting. I nearly filled my panties with urine, but I recognized him immediately.

"Dear Lord in Heaven," Maggie expressed. "That scare the piss out of anyone else?"

"Yup!" I answered promptly.

Daryl pulled up to the man, rolling down my window as he came to a stop. The soldier leaned his arms on the door, smiling.

"Everything is clear up until Alexandria. I saw some people on the wall, so you should probably kill your headlights."

"They won't see us from this far," Sasha pointed out, but Daryl turned them off anyway.

"The gate looks pretty fucked from what I could tell, and there's dirt all over the road. It's a damn mess like you said."

I blew air of out my mouth in a raspberry. "Okay. This is it then. Everyone clear on what to do?"

To the agreement of everyone in the vehicle, I asked the Somerset man his name. He introduced himself with an apology as Mike. I asked him to help inform all of the vehicles behind us to park and turn off their lights. This is where we would approach on foot. Daryl pulled into the brush, off from the road but close enough to reach it quickly and drive out if necessary. The lot of us converged on the road, whispering the in the darkness and listening for any unusual sounds.

"You stay behind me," Daryl demanded as he came up to my side. "They'll shoot on sight as soon as they see us."

"We'll make sure that they won't," I assured him, ignoring his grumpy tone as I grabbed his collar and pulled him into a deep kiss. He returned it passionately, but as soon as we broke away he was back at it again with his warnings.

"I mean it, Everly. Behind me."

"Okay!" I didn't mean to sound short. He feared seeing me get hurt, but I was frightened of the same thing. And I couldn't admit to him that once the bullets started to fly I wouldn't hide behind him anymore. This time, I would be protecting him.

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **It's another twenty pager (just barely over twenty-one). I had soooo much more to add, but it would be another ten to fifteen pages if I had added it all. I decided to call it quits since I already missed my Monday deadline, erg, but I won't have to disappoint you too much longer with my broken promises of timely updates! The story doesn't have much longer to go. (Although, each time I write a chapter, there are always soooo many details to add that it ends up making them longer than I anticipated, which means more chapters.) My beta will be going out of town this weekend, so I'm not sure how soon I will be able to post Chapter 65. I'm going to work on getting it to her before she leaves, however.**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys are continuing to enjoy the story and are happy watching TWD this weekend! I'll catch up on it eventually...**


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter 65**

Amongst the many that stood on the darkened road, King Ezekiel stuck out like a sore thumb, all gallant in his robes with a giant, vicious cat by his side. He didn't quite look the part of a king heading into battle, but the assault rifle strapped to his back asserted otherwise. His face was hard with a vertical crease of anxiousness between his brows as he approached us.

"Shiva is thirsty for vengeance, my warriors. Lead the way and we will dutifully follow."

"Aw," Jesus cooed and bent down with his hands on his knees. "You ready to use those cute murder mittens of yours again, Shiva?"

King Ezekiel chuckled darkly. "She undoubtedly is. I fear the taste of warm blood upon her tongue will be the only remedy."

I gazed at the tiger, feeling a shiver of fear creep over me. She gazed around the group, her eyes piercing but curious. I didn't sense any malevolence from her. Not at this moment, at least.

"Alright, then," Jesus replied humorously. "Let's get this shit show started."

"Your men are staying behind?" I asked King Ezekiel for confirmation.

"Half and half, as was wished," he affirmed.

I nodded and took in a deep, nervous breath. "Good."

We had decided that not everyone needed to strike Alexandria. Not right away. A large portion of our hands would stay back, watching the roads and covering us from behind. Earlier, the five of us had come to the conclusion that Negan would have left a nicely sized group behind, but not big enough that we needed more than a dozen armed men with us. We would go in with small numbers looking for a fair enough fight. The only difference was we had the indulgence of a surprise attack.

"We sticking to the original plan?" Jesus spoke to Daryl.

"Yeah, it's our only way in." He adjusted the rifle in his arms, keeping it pointed to the ground. "Sasha will have the lookouts in sight with her sniper-"

"And you will sneak over the wall," Sasha added in a gusto of adrenaline. "They won't notice you, hopefully, but my finger will be on the trigger, ready to shoot."

"As soon as you're in, find Michonne and the others, give 'em the guns. While you guys start it from the inside, we'll join in from the outside," Daryl continued.

Jesus smirked. "Boy, won't this be fun?"

I patted his shoulder. "You've got this."

"A kiss on the cheek for good luck?" His gloved finger tapped the smooth curve of his cheekbone.

I gave him a quick peck and a smile. He returned it with a wink as he gazed at Daryl.

"One more to spare?" He asked him, pointing to the other side of his face.

Daryl glared. "Get on with it, asshole."

Jesus shrugged with a disappointed grin. "Worth a shot."

"Get out of here." Sasha smacked his shoulder lightheartedly as he jogged off to his position, the bag of guns weighing him down on one side.

"He'll be okay," I reassured her as the smile slowly drained from her face. I looked around at everyone else. "Let's move forward. Quickly and quietly."

Stealth wasn't as innate as I imagined it would be. Our footfalls were a cacophonous parade; a Fourth of July celebration without the fireworks and excitement. I chalked it up to paranoid delusion as no one else mentioned or seemed to mind the strident treading, and it probably didn't matter as what we hunted wasn't within earshot; they couldn't hear out footsteps through the steel walls of the town unless they weren't inside of it.

As we got closer, Sasha branched off with a glance of fortune from us. She wisped into the trees like a shadow with not even a parting rustle of the leaves around her. She moved like a specter, silent but attentive, and I knew she watched somewhere in those stygian woods, an armed guardian angel at our backs. And we trekked forward; a group of loaded men and women ready to break our tether to this world for a chance at making it stronger. Stooping to a crouch and slowing our pace, our once loud footsteps were now soft whispers deafened by the sky's fluttering breath. The rising apprehension in my chest was almost at a crescendo, but I let my limbs tremble, vibrating out the terror and pulling in determination to fill the space left behind. This was it.

We stopped just before the main road, scattering around like mice in a darkened room in search for choice hiding spots. I was glued to Daryl's side and King Ezekiel was to mine as his loyal pet was to his. I glanced at the tiger, curious and marveling at the display of her expert training. King Ezekiel had taught her well; a true example of master and companion if I ever saw such a couple. I was almost excited to see how she would react to the violence- excited and terrified- but the sight of a dark and glistening pool of blood was a vivid prelude for what I knew was bound to happen. I wasn't keen on the thought of watching a person being ripped apart, but maybe it wouldn't come to that. Or maybe I'd be too busy killing myself to notice.

 _Can you do this?_ I asked myself. Could I kill someone in cold blood? Aim the gun, pull the trigger, knowing it would be the last thing that person experienced? Could I flip open my pocket knife and plunge it into someone's flesh like I was cutting into a chicken breast? Would it come to me that easily? I maybe would say yes if my life were in peril, if I hadn't been the one to start the fight, but tonight would be on our hands. This was our destruction, our chance at taking back, but at the cost of what? More death and misery… Would it be worth it in the end?

"Okay," Jesus' hushed whisper startled me. He was crouched low, scuttling towards us so naturally it was like he'd learned to walk that way first. "I'm going to circle around. I spotted two sentries atop the wall and two men outside of the gate. They've got a vehicle blocking the entrance as well." He waved a hand in the air as he continued. "There's some sort of fucking ditch or moat around the first half of the wall, so I'm going in farther out than I expected, but that shouldn't be a problem. It might actually be better; less of a chance of being seen."

Daryl edged closer. "Whadda we do about them blockin' the gate?"

"Maggie's already on it with some of her Hilltop people. Once we start from the inside, Sasha will take out the two on look out. Maggie's people will hit those on the ground. From there, it shouldn't be too hard to get inside, but be wary. Once they hear those gates opening, they'll starting firing after you."

"Duly noted, brave soldier," King Ezekiel replied with reserved delectation. "I believe I have just the weapon to astound our enemies long enough to retrieve the upper hand." He petted Shiva's head and a low purring began from deep with her chest.

Jesus nodded with approval. "She'd sure as shit take me off guard at first. Every second counts."

"Then let's not waste anymore time," I said. "Negan has to know something is up by now."

Jesus didn't say anymore, but whisked off in the same way he'd come to us. He was fast and agile, and I was deeply envious at the showmanship of his athleticism.

"Do you think the usurper is aware of our coup?" The king asked me.

I met his eyes. "He has to be. Dwight and company have been going at it for a few hours now. There's no way he's not aware of something going on."

"He knows it's us. Too much of a fuckin' coincidence that we all got away and suddenly his outposts are being blown new assholes left and right," Daryl agreed.

I pondered that, wondering how Negan was reacting to the news. We'd left most of the walkies at the Kingdom, but a few remained with the group garrisoning the street. The last we'd heard, Dwight had made a big dent in hitting the outposts, but there was no mention of a certain group attacking from the outside. It had all been vague, frantic cries for help. One could easily assume they were overcome by walkers, but that seemed too unproblematic. Negan knew there was something more. That's why we needed to do this quickly and stay on our toes lest _we_ were the ones who were surprised.

"Keep in mind he's still out there searching. If he catches wind something is happening here, this is where he'll come," I said.

"Then we shall keep our adversary absorbed in battle. Should we notice one reporting however…" King Ezekiel cocked one brow at us.

"I'll take care of it," I promised, but swallowed past the fear of doing so.

 _Will you?_

A single gunshot sliced the air; a lone, resounding birdcall of the sort that I wished to never hear again, but realized I always inevitably would until the day I died. The air around us hushed. No crickets chirped and the wind took a brief hiatus. We were left with nothing but suspended silence and I strained my ears for any other source of noise beyond the recent anamnesis of a firing gun. I sought Daryl's face for comfort, wanting to see that he had anticipated this as a possibility, but he looked grim.

 _They shot him. They shot him down._ The terror-stricken and paranoid part of me was clawing its way to the surface. _It's all over. They saw Jesus and now they're going to find you._ He's _going to find you._

"Daryl," I whispered but it sounded more like a whimper. He grabbed my hand as I was searching for his, crushing my fingers in his palm.

A chorus began; a choir so loud and discordant that it grated on my ears and tweaked my nerves, but I was simultaneously relieved. What an odd reaction to a gun fight, but that's what I felt. It told me that Jesus had succeeded and the Alexandrians were now fighting back. We were doing this.

I heard Sasha's shots, clear and direct like a bell. There were only two, so I knew she'd hit both of her targets the first time. I wanted to wait for her, but Maggie and her soldiers had already sprung from their hiding spots, shooting down the sentries stationed at the gate.

"That's our cue," Daryl said, his tone much louder now. We stood, my knees weak with anxiety, but my muscles pumped through with adrenaline. I felt King Ezekiel at my side, his heat radiating off like a flame in the dead of winter. I was attracted to that heat, protected by it, like a moth finds repose next to a flame. I wanted him to take the lead, put Daryl and me behind him, so I grabbed Daryl's elbow, indicating that King Ezekiel should go first to allow Shiva the first appearance inside.

"Open the gate!" The king commanded his soldiers and they ran to the contorted entryway, pulling it open with reddening faces.

We kept back, dodging the predicted gunfire that ricocheted past Alexandria's borders. The soldiers retreated after a split second; leaving the gateway partially opened, but the ingress was just so that we could fit through perfectly without a hitch. Well, if it wasn't currently being shot through, that is.

"Shiva." I heard King Ezekiel's deep soothing voice cooing at his beloved pet. "Now is the hour to muster the innate bravery that comes so naturally to a brilliant beast like you. You are my shield, my weapon. My warrior spirit duels alongside you. Be our heroine and forge a path in blood, my darling. Bring us justice!"

Shiva roared, her throat vibrating powerfully and her eyes determined as if she knew the exact words her master had just spoken to her. She turned at once and bounded to Alexandria's entrance, King Ezekiel close at her heels. The two disappeared inside in a whir of silk coattails and fur. I gave Daryl a bewildered look, one he returned briefly before a shriek of utter terror broke our gazes and propelled us through her walls and into the fight.

I glanced around in stupefaction at the sight of Shiva ripping into one man and then diving onto a second, of King Ezekiel laughing maniacally as he shot boisterously at the Saviors and egged on his pet, and of my old friends fighting with him…and winning. Daryl ripped me to the side and behind a stationed vehicle. He pushed me down low, almost to a sitting position as he hovered over me. Bullets whizzed past and I wondered just how many men Negan had left behind for the fighting to go on for so long, but I soon realized it must have been only a few minutes since the start; it seemed like an eternity so far.

Daryl kept a hand on my chest, holding me back and he scooted over the grill of the truck to peer past its edge. He watched momentarily before swinging his rifle up, aiming, and shooting. Being so close, I started at the sudden noise, covering my ears as pain ripped through them, but a complete feeling of uselessness overcame me. I squatted here like a coward, doing nothing but observing. That wouldn't help us win anything.

While Daryl remained preoccupied, I decided to sidle to the right and cover the other side of the vehicle, drawing the P229 from my satchel. I held it in both hands, my finger hovering over the trigger like I was taught to do, but my palms were slick and the gun felt so heavy. At any moment, I was going to be surprised and the perfect aim I pictured myself shooting with would be nothing but total frightened miscalculation.

 _Stop being a pussy_ , I scolded myself, but I feared my reaction. It's easy to fantasize how you might react in a situation such as this one, but being thrust into one is an entirely underestimated and unprepared for experience.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes briefly to center myself, and peered around the headlight of the truck. At first I saw nothing. Just Alexandria's dim steel wall highlighted with random bursts of gunfire that shone off of the metal, but then I saw him; a thin, young man with long, dark hair ducking behind the right end of the truck and firing his weapon. I pointed mine at him, ready to shoot but finding myself unwilling to pull the trigger.

 _You can do this!_ I screamed on the inside.

 _He doesn't even know I'm here!_ I argued with myself.

 _Fuck that! He'd shoot you without hesitation. Pull. The damn. Trigger!_

"I'm not him," I inhaled deeply, resolute. "I'm not a coward."

 _No, but you're fucking stupid._

"Drop it or I'll shoot!" I yelled.

The lanky man froze but then instantly whipped around to face me, the barrel of his gun aiming at my head. I ducked as he pulled the trigger and heard the bullet whiz by. I cursed myself with a brutish force.

 _That's what you get for being a bleeding fucking heart, you dumbass._

"Drop your weapon and I won't kill _you_ … Everly," was his response.

I struggled for a reply. I glanced sparingly at Daryl who was still shooting from his side of the truck, apparently deaf to what was happening behind him. Only a moment had passed, but I'd already gotten myself into so much trouble. Typical.

"Your boyfriend must be with you, too, huh?" The man taunted. "I can't imagine he's not too far away. Should I look for him? Put him down? Maybe if you surrender I'll kill him quickly."

I rounded the corner of the truck again, angry and keeping my gun thrust out in front of me. The other man yanked his up as I reappeared, his eyes warning me that he did not want to shoot me but he would.

"Put it on the fucking ground," he said evenly.

"Fuck you." I narrowed my eyes. "We're taking our town back, but we don't have to kill each other. We can find common ground here."

He laughed. "She says as her friends _slaughter_ mine. I don't fucking think so, missus. Negan wants you back and your boy toy dead. When I hand the both of you over to him, he'll give me so much more than any bullshit compromise you can pull out of your ass right now."

"He's not giving you a future. We can." I licked my lips, trying to wet my dry mouth. I felt sweat starting to moisten my forehead, but I refused to blink.

"I beg to differ." He tipped his head to my Sig Sauer and laughed again, the sounds of gunfire and screams validating his discredit. "Without him, there is no future."

He started forward, but I jutted my gun at him, placing my finger on the trigger.

"Don't!" I warned. "Don't take another step or I'll shoot."

But he didn't listen and he didn't say another word. His eyes were dark orbs, sucking in everything around him. He lunged for me and I heard the ear-splitting pop, felt the metal jerk in my hands as my finger pulled the trigger. I was stunned at first, thinking _I_ had been the one who'd been shot, but as the two of us stared at one another I saw blood spill from his mouth and down his chin. His arms had dropped from the initial shock, but once he realized what had been done, his eyes suddenly blank and scared, he lifted his gun again and aimed at me.

Without blinking, a clamoring ring of an assault rifle above my head deafened me and I watched with squinted eyes as the once alive but now dead man fell backward, pocketed with holes. Daryl yanked me up from the ground, pinning me against the side of the large truck with his chest as he glared angrily down at me. I sheepishly returned his stare, unable to say or do anything, but then the anger was overcome by relief as he pulled me into his arms.

"Are ya okay?" He demanded.

"Y-yeah," I stuttered.

"Next time, don't stop shootin' until the son of uh bitch is dead. He coulda killed you," he cautioned and promptly looked around. Right now wasn't the time to become distracted. "Stay _right_ by me." He grabbed my arm and crouched, stepping over the Savior's oozing corpse and pulling me to the tail end of the truck.

He observed the fighting, shooting now and then, but after a moment he stood up and I followed his movements. I could tell he wanted to maneuver around, become more centralized in the fight, but I was holding him back like an anchor; keeping him in place. I didn't want that, but there was no point in distracting him to argue.

"We've got most of them," he said, not looking at me. "Some are still fighin' back, but they won't be for long. They're out numbered now."

I didn't respond, feeling too meek and stupid to. I was ashamed, I will admit. Like a child who does something wrong when they knew they could have made a better choice before acting out in the first place. But did I make the wrong decision? Whether morally or justly? It was my life or his, but I gave that man a chance to live. That's what had mattered to me, but to Daryl it had been reckless, and I suppose I couldn't blame him. It was.

"C'mon." He took my hand. His grip was strong, stronger than how he usually held it, but I knew he was just scared. Scared and upset with me.

We came from around the truck and my eyes drifted from one body to the next. Most of them I didn't know, didn't really recognize any of them at all, but I saw a few who I did; both from our side and the Saviors.

"Oh, Olivia," I mourned, spotting her body among the many, eyes wide open and lifeless.

Going in this battle, I was fully prepared to lose people I cared about and loved. Casualties were a given in war, but it still hurt. It was a raw wound being ripped open before it had barely begun to heal, and my eyes clouded, a thick mist blurring my vision. I blinked them away, setting my face to stone.

"We've got them all," Maggie panted as she approached, covered in grime and blood. "Those who aren't dead are being rounded up."

"Holy _shit_ , you held your own during this," Jesus complimented her.

"Told you I could," she said.

"You can't blame me for being a little cautious." He patted her belly.

"What was that solitary shot?" Daryl asked him.

"Oh, that. That was me being a bit too generous."

"One of the Saviors saw us while we were arming ourselves and acted promptly," Michonne clarified, walking over to our small group.

Jesus smirked at her. "He wasn't a very good shot, was he?"

She lifted up her sword, displaying the crimson coated metal and observing it almost lovingly. "Hard to shoot straight when you no longer have a head." Her smile was small and tired but warm. "I almost didn't believe it when I heard you two had escaped, but I should've known no one could keep Daryl Dixon locked up for too long."

She patted his bicep appreciatively and he pulled her into a hug.

"You can cage a beast but that won't make it loyal," he replied.

My lips lifted briefly as she looked at me and took my hands. "Thank you, Everly, for what you did for Carl. Without you…" She broke off, swallowing down the thickness that choked her voice.

"I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Her arms were a vice around me, crushing me to her chest. I gasped as the air vacated my lungs, but I hugged her back as tightly as I could.

"Is everyone okay?" We turned to the sound of Sasha's voice. She was out of breath, coming to a jogging stop in front of us.

"Mostly. We lost a few of our own..," Jesus answered and looked around morosely. "As for the Saviors…"

"They got fucked!" Carl exclaimed.

I looked to my left, spotting the lanky teen with a rifle slung to his back. Rick, Tara, Rosita, Aaron, and a few other Alexandrians were at his heel. All of the struggles of today and yesterday faded as I saw them all alive and unhurt. The tears I had attempted to dismiss before progressed down my face, and while these were less sorrowful, I quickly wiped them away.

Carl beamed when he saw us. "I fucking knew you guys would make it out of that hellhole!"

I hugged him tightly and Daryl threw an arm around the kid after, shaking his body with a strong hug. Rosita was next and then Tara. As I stepped up to Rick, I noticed the bloodied wrappings on his hands and I felt a deep, physical ache in my chest thinking about what Negan had done to him. I was enticed to embrace him, but in one of those rare moments since I had known him – just like that first night in the woods that seemed an eternity ago - I felt like he was too fragile to touch. The decision was made for me, though, as he put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me against him. He felt the same yet smaller somehow.

"It's nice to have ya back," he told me, his voice gentle and soft.

"It's wonderful to be back," I reciprocated, holding him gingerly before letting go. He gazed at Daryl.

The two didn't exchange words as they hugged. It was a long, brotherly embrace that probably meant more to the both of them than any amount of verbal exchange would have. I watched with warmth in my heart, thoroughly thankful for this moment. We were surrounded by death but through that we had been reunited, and what counted most was staying together. We had gone through hell and now we were marching right back through it side-by-side, looking for a fight and finding one easily. The hard part would be staying alive.

"He took Eugene," Rick said out of the blue. "He came here lookin' for you and took him when he didn't find ya."

"Dammit," Sasha cursed softly, turning away and rubbing her face.

"It's okay," Rosita said. "He's resilient and smart. He'll find a way to survive."

"Not if we destroy the damn place with him inside of it." Sasha threw a hand up and let it fall to smack her thigh.

"He'll be fine," Rick assured. "I believe that. He'll be Negan's bartering chip, I'm sure. But even if we attack, he'll know what to do."

We were silent for a moment before Tara asked, "Will we attack?"

Rick thought for a moment, but Maggie spoke up for him. "Dwight's plannin' on bring a horde of walkers down on the Sanctuary. He should have them there by early mornin', I'm predictin'." She spoke to Rick. "He followed through on everything; gave us these guns. He's why we have our home back."

The Alexandrian leader nodded, his look grim as he then shook his head. It was what he wanted, but the price for winning it back was a hefty one to pay. "I was hopin' he would. I'm glad I gave him a chance." He inhaled and looked around at all of us. "We'll wait on his word and secure things here… Dig graves for our dead."

"And the Saviors?" Jesus asked.

Rick paused, his eyes skimming the ground. "Question the ones who're still alive and keep them locked up. As for the ones that are dead… Throw 'em outside in the moat. When Negan comes, and he will, he'll see that we can use dead bodies to make a barrier, too."

* * *

As he stood there in his office, his most trusted lieutenants quiet and waiting for instruction, Negan wondered where the hell he had exactly gone wrong. What decision had it been? What had been his mistake? But he felt like a complete ass for even asking himself that. He'd made no mistake. _They_ had, and they would know it soon enough once they were on their asses with his knee pressed down on their goddamns throats. The geyser that was frothing inside of him, it was boiling fucking over, spewing like a goddamn kettle forgotten on high heat. It hadn't blown quiet yet, but oh man, was it whistling. His rage was that intense, and the heat that came from it was radiating, and his men felt it, too. It was contagious.

"What's the fucking E.T.A. on all of our patrols?" He asked.

"Gary and his group are back, so are Arat's, Dillon's, and Laura's," Simon informed with crossed arms. "Gavin isn't responding and neither are the rest."

Negan grimaced, grinding his teeth together. "And the outposts?"

"Ten are off grid, most of them north, but a few are south of there. Others we think may be under threat are still active but not all of them responding. We've instructed those still in contact to fortify their posts and be on high alert. They're sending us hourly updates."

"Make it every half hour," Negan directed, perturbed. "And I want some goddamn information on what the hell is going on out there!"

"We're figuring it out, boss," one of his men said.

Simon sighed, reluctant on sharing a bit of information he had. He wasn't sure how well Negan would take it, and frankly, it didn't make a whole lot of sense to him, but it was the only thing they had to go on. "One outpost was able to relay some information to me before they blacked out."

Negan raise irate eyebrows. "Which is?"

"A horde. They're pushing south. It's the one Dwight supposedly was going to take care of…" Simon paused. "I believe he's the one leading them back."

"What?" His leader demanded, his eyes bulging. "Someone saw that dickless cunt?"

Simon shook his head, biting his tongue. "No, I'm assuming. The pattern of movement for the dead is usually one-tracked, but receptive. They'll usually move in the same direct unless distracted-"

"I'm aware of how those dead fucks maneuver," Negan snapped. He had Lucille in hand, bouncing her in the air in short swings; up-down-up-down-up-down.

"I'm just saying," Simon continued more cautiously. "They wouldn't have turned around autonomously unless something prevented them from staying straight, or they were distracted, diverted; whatever verb you want to pluck out to fit the explanation."

Negan sighed in frustration. The idea Dwight was leading a horde south wasn't as crazy as it sounded. He had gotten away and was still out there somewhere, but he'd only been a runagate for a little over twenty-four hours. That was the only undefined part. So, what did that mean? What had Dwight's motives been all along? To help two people escape or to start something? And who exactly was helping him? There was no way he was doing this all on his own.

The advancing herd could be a coincidence, but Simon had made fair points. It was unlikely the large group of walkers had doubled back on their own, and as for the dead outposts, that was more than a stroke of misfortune. His domain was crumbling one barrack at a time, his network crashing down. Someone – not something - was killing his men again. That was the only explanation he found reasonable, and there was one person here who he hadn't spoken to yet that he could possibly get information out of

"I'm going to go visit my wives," Negan announced after a tense silence. "Keep trying for all patrols and direct them back here immediately. I want all outposts armed and ready for any threat. The order is to kill on sight, no questions. Then have everyone gather in the commons. We're having a fucking late night meeting."

"Yes, sir," Simon said amenably.

Negan left his office, stomping through the hallways at a formidable pace. Anyone who happened to meet him during his journey dropped to their knees instantly, nearly lowering their foreheads to the floor. His bad mood was apparently noticeable, like a black fog that choked the corridors before he'd even rounded a corner. His people could sense him coming.

He didn't bother to knock on the parlor doors, he rarely did, but his entrance wasn't cordial this time. The doors burst wide open, hitting the walls with a crash and vibrating in the aftershock. His wives jumped, a couple of them crying out in surprise, and they were all tense, their backs straight as a rod and their limbs tight. No one made eye contact, their eyes avoiding him and flirting with the floor; everyone's but Sherry's. She started at him, her brown eyes big and round as she watched him approach her. She knew he'd come for her eventually, and while she looked frightened Negan also noticed the moxie behind the fear.

"Did you know? Did you all fucking know?" He yelled at her, at all of them, not putting on a pretense of ease. He was anything but and he no longer had the patience to put on a fake face.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Her tone was even, smooth and convincing, but he wasn't buying it. Negan grabbed her by the back of her neck, yanking her to his chest.

"I want to hear some fucking truth come out of your mouth before I snap your goddamn neck. Did. You. Know?"

Sherry swallowed, her mouth betraying her as it wobbled. "No."

Negan let her go, throwing her back against the bar where she barely caught herself. He paced the room, looking at each one of his wives, forcing them to make eye contact. Some were crying and they were all terrified, but none of them said an answering word to his questions. He laughed at the utter bullshit of it all and the sound was foreign to his hears, nearly maniacal.

"Negan, you're scaring us," Frankie whispered.

"I swear to whatever fucking God there is reigning over this hell," he turned back to Sherry and pointed an accusing finger at her, "I will rip out your fucking tongues if I find out any you had a part in this."

"We don't. Know. Anything," she said resolutely. "Why would we?"

"He was your fucking husband!" Negan yelled and his booming voice circled in the room, the silence afterward more deafening than his outburst had been. Then he smiled and swung his arms out wide, Lucille adding an extra three and half reckless feet to his extremity, and his wives shrunk back. "But it does say quite a lot that he left you here, no?" He cocked his head and studied her. "Maybe that break up wasn't as hard on him as I thought it was."

Sherry's eyes twitched, but she managed to keep a straight face. She wasn't going to crack like he was pushing her to do; she knew this game.

"Can you sit yet, Sher?" He asked her.

"After a short adjustment period, yes," she answered truthfully. She thought back to last night when she had given him permission to do whatever he wanted in an attempt to keep him distracted. He'd been rough, more so than he'd ever been, and while he hadn't exactly left any marks on her other than red welts that had disappeared shortly after he was done, her skin was tender.

"When all this is settled, I'll make that more difficult for you. Then I'll use your mouth one more time before I make good on the first threat."

She saw a flash of insanity on his face, and she was inclined to believe him. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't hurt her; not like that. He was just extremely distressed and not reasonable, and he loved to make threats. The worst ones were when he was in a state such as this, but she didn't respond, letting him have his moment. Even if he truly meant it, he wouldn't be around long enough to follow through. She had faith in that.

* * *

Sasha sat idling in the van, the map she'd used to get to the Sanctuary tossed to the side. Her hands were pasted to the steering wheel and they itched from the vibrations of the music as it blared from the speakers. It was an odd song, one she'd heard before the world warped into something evil, but it fit the situation perfectly. She sat listening to it a moment as she waited for her newfound, straggling companions to join her, her eyes trained on the factory in the distance. She was the bait, the hook and liner that would lead them to reunite with their brothers and sisters trapped there, guarding the walls like demons surrounding Hell.

 _I got the new world in my view_

 _On my journey I pursue_

 _I said I'm running, running for the city_

 _I got the new world in my view_

 _Come on, get an army_

 _Help me run this holy righteous place_

 _Can't you hear them saviors calling_

 _Well, He's knocking on your door today_

 _Not today. Not anymore._ She thought fiercely. _Today, we're at your door, you bastard._

She revved the engine and then let go of the brake, letting the van roll down the road. She checked the side mirrors, the scene behind her tremoring from the bass, but she could make out their bouncing heads, their swaying arms. They weren't too far behind. She just needed to get them closer before she was noticed; before they killed her.

Her mission was to ensure the dead had a way to reach the Sanctuary and have a passage inside. She was well aware the Saviors would be on edge with their outposts dying out one-by-one. They probably knew she was here already. Her music was probably crystal clear across the distance, but she had to hold out and keep going; penetrate their walls and destroy their home like they had done to hers. It would be her dying right to the world, her personal way of balancing it out, and she almost felt bad for lying to Dwight. Almost.

Abraham entered her mind. She watched again as his head was beaten into the ground, flattened and displayed like road kill. Her foot twitched on the gas and the van lurched forward, but she quickly lessened the pressure, her hands wringing the steering wheel.

She thought about Bob and how she had reluctantly opened up to him. She hadn't expected to fall in love, but she had and he was gone just as quickly, taken by the dead just like her brother; just like everyone she had loved. And her world was lost, spinning out of sight. She had somehow managed to grasp onto something to slow it down, however, reeling it back in again. It was just as abrupt as the first time, but Abraham had been there for her. He had loved her and she him. It was something else the world had stolen from her; had ripped right out of her goddamn clawing, frantic hands and left them bare and aching.

But not now. She had something again, and they were on her side this go-round. Her eyes flicked to the mirrors once more.

"Be on my side this time," she whispered desperately through clenched teeth, her voice drowning in the music. "This _one_ time."

The tears started, bitter, sorry, and sad. This was her last chance to find decency in the world. She'd lost faith in it a long time ago, but she wanted to believe she could find it again; at least in these last minutes. It owed her that much after everything it had taken.

"Come on, you fuckers!" She yelled. She was getting close to the Sanctuary now. She could see the chained walkers on the fence and people beyond that.

It was time. Her presence was apparent now and so were her followers. She saw the Saviors line up outside, ducking behind vehicles and corners, large guns in their hands. This one shot was all she would get. Ducking down, she slammed her foot on the gas, sending the van forward at a breakneck speed. Seconds later, the bullets ricocheted off the hood and pierced the glass, obstructing her ability to see over the dash, but she pressed hard on the pedal and kept the wheel straight, not slowing down once. She wasn't failing this.

The bullets were tiny missiles, and she worried the van would blow before she reached her destination. Smoke rose from the engine, trailing behind her like a smokestack from a freight train, but the vehicle miraculously continued to move, and a moment later, she felt resistance, heard the clamor of metal ripping and sparking as she plowed through the Sanctuary gate. She stayed down as an aerosol of projectile metal coated the sides of the van, popping the tires, and she felt it sway to the side and closed her eyes as it rolled over two times before slamming into something hard.

She was surrounded by black, seeing nothing but she heard yelling, screaming, and more gunfire. Her eyes struggled to open and focus, but she had to know. She had to see before she closed them for the last time. Her head felt heavy, her arms hovering above her head somehow. There was a great pressure on her stomach and chest, like carnivorous vines were interlaced around her, holding her in place as they bit into her abdomen. When her eyes adjusted, she realized the van had landed on its top, glass shattered and gleaming like tiny crystals around her. The music still played, loud and boastful. She craned her neck, turning her head to find the direction from which she came. There were feet and legs running frantically around the concrete yard, going one direction and then the next, and soon they began to retreat, coming toward her. She saw them then; the hundreds of dragging, rotting bodies stumbling and crawling; her new kin. They had made it and so had she. And she smiled, closing her eyes and feeling peaceful at last.

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **Okay, I was very indecisive on this chapter, but I suppose it's good enough (and I waited long enough, too). I couldn't decide if I wanted Everly to be a gun-toting badass that shoots up the Saviors or if she would be more timid. Ultimately, I decided on the latter (obviously). It made more sense to me with her character arc. What do you guys think about Sasha's sacrifice? It's definitely something she would've done. I like it better than her just running into the Sanctuary and ditching Rosita. At least she did some damn damage here.**

 **How was the premiere last weekend? Is shit crazy? I'm going to binge the crap out this season once I'm all done with this. I've already heard enough spoilers!** **Anyway! I hope this chapter is better than I think it is. I've been very disappointed and moody with my writing recently. Enjoy the show tomorrow night!**

 **Song: New World In My View by King Britt.**


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter 66**

The horror and disbelief was palpable as they watched the van careening down the road, absorbing sheets of bullets head-on while it drove at full tilt. Ice cold fingers ran between their shoulder blades and over the back of their necks as they watched, both in fear for Sasha's life and that of their systematic mission.

"No. Oh, shit," Dwight whispered in a panic as he walked forward, but going a few feet closer added no more clarity to what was happening in the distance and it certainly didn't allow him to see into Sasha's mind. "What the fuck is she doing?"

She hit the gate, the wired doors smashing open in a myriad of sparks. Bullets continued to assault the van, puncturing both sides of the vehicle as it tore through the Sanctuary parking lot. The tires must've blown because it began to swerve and the brake lights lit up. The van tipped to the left and then the right before it toppled over and onto its top, sliding to hit the factory wall with smoke enveloping the air above it in an opaque bubble. Dwight could hear the gasps behind him and he knew he would be in charge of damage control.

 _God DAMNIT, Sasha!_ He cursed her from afar. She did exactly what he told her not to do, and fuck him if he didn't put his trust in her to comply with his wishes. He should've known she wasn't right with the desperate way she had begged him, but she had swayed him with the possibility of moving the herd at a quicker and singular pace.

"What the fucking hell!" Maggie screamed at his back and Dwight turned with placating hands in the air. "What was that? What the fuck was that?"

Maggie, Michonne, Jesus, and a few others from Alexandria had shown up with Sasha. Dwight should have expected as much when he let her have the job of bringing the van to meet him half way, but he was still annoyed. The damn Alexandrians could hardly ever do anything alone, and now Sasha's bullshit act was causing alarm.

Maggie pushed Dwight's shoulders, accusing him of setting Sasha up. "We should've never believed you! I knew you would turn on us!"

"She wasn't supposed to do that, okay? She was supposed to jump out and let the van roll downhill. We have one of my fucking guys down there waiting to pick her up for Christ sakes!"

"I'm going in after her," Jesus announced, running to a parked SUV and a few others followed suit.

"Hold on!" Dwight called, but no one heard him through the rising panic.

"We are not attacking with her down there in the middle." Maggie's irate finger jabbed itself under his nose. "Eugene and the rest would've been sheltered, prepared, but she's out in the open. We have to get her out."

Dwight was at a loss. He turned to look at the Sanctuary, saw people scrambling to get inside as the horde descended upon them, and wondered how in the hell they thought they could get Sasha out. He looked at Maggie, pity in his expression as he mulled over what words he could use to convince them to stay.

"You can't," he said. "You go in there, you're dead, and we have no idea if Sasha isn't already."

"Exactly!" Maggie yelled. "We don't know, but I'm not gonna leave her in there to die. I'm not going to let her be torn to bits by those monsters and I ain't talkin' about the walkers!"

"There isn't anything we can do!" Trevor stepped into the argument, exasperated. "Sasha clearly knew what she was doing. This whole thing was her idea. We're going to attack." Trevor turned to his cohorts. "Get in the trucks."

"Like hell you are!" Maggie sneered and withdrew her gun. A few Alexandrians followed her lead with stubborn anger etched on their faces.

"It's best if you stepped aside," Michonne requested, her sword halfway unsheathed.

This was not the way Dwight had wanted tonight to go and he was caught in the middle. He wanted to blow the Sanctuary to hell, and Trevor had made a point. Sasha had known what she was going to do. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd been planning a suicide mission since she learned of the mass of dead wandering about up north, but now there was a big hole in their plans. One big enough to set them back and possibly cost them to lose this war. Negan knew without a doubt who was after him now and not only that, but his enemies were currently turning against each other. This was shaping out to be quick loss for them if they didn't get their shit in order.

Dwight held his arms out. "Everybody stop! Jesus, you too!"

The bearded Hilltopper was in the driver's seat of an idling SUV, a few Alexandrians ready to go with him, but he waited and listened with a grimace on his face.

"There is no feasible way you can get to her. Look!" Dwight pointed to the Sanctuary and at the milling dead bodies overcrowding the surrounding tarmac. "How do you expect to get through that? By the time you get down there and you push through all of that - if you can survive it - she'll be gone."

Maggie inhaled deeply, trying to find a reason to keep arguing against an attack, but she couldn't find one other than that she wanted to save her friend; a friend who purposely sacrificed herself to give the dead an infallible way inside the enemy's lair. She wanted her loss to be enough of a reason, but sadly she realized it wasn't and couldn't be. She placed her gun back in its holster and gazed sorrowfully down at the overrun factory, imaging Sasha stumbling about with white eyes and gnashing teeth.

"Please don't blow it up. Not yet," Maggie pleaded. She had a thread of hope that Sasha was okay and she was holding onto it until it broke.

"Maggie," Dwight began.

"Please!"

Dwight noticed her fear, recognizing the desperation he was accustomed to witnessing whenever Negan had someone on their knees with a barbed wired bat anchored over a loved one's head. It was easy to see because he'd already seen that fear from her once before…

"Okay," he relented, annoyed but understanding and Michonne sheathed her sword. "We won't use the rocket launchers…yet. We'll let the chips fall where they may for now, but we are attacking when we know for sure if she's dead or alive."

Maggie nodded, sniffing back unshed tears as Trevor spoke up from behind his shoulder.

"What about Sherry and the rest? They're waiting for us."

Dwight clenched his teeth and found himself lost in the multifaceted exterior of the old factory. Inside were his wife and the few people he'd left behind, waiting for their moment to fight back and escape, but that window had already closed. They were stuck in there now, trapped by the dead and with little means to get out, but they knew what to do. He had prepared them for the possibility of things backfiring.

"We need to figure shit out and be on the same page for what comes next. Things just got a lot fucking harder, and I'm serious when I say to follow the fucking plans." Dwight gazed at everyone menacingly. "We can't turn on each other when something doesn't go right. Or… We. Will. _Lose_. This."

"We understand," Michonne stepped in front of Maggie, keeping her eyes trained on Dwight's. "Tell us what to do next, _boss_."

Dwight scoffed and backed up. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"But it did." Michonne words burned him, and he didn't know what to say next as they turned away and left.

Trevor approached him. "Are we following?"

"Yeah." Dwight didn't look up. "Have Randy stay and wait for Wade to get up here. No one's leaving the Sanctuary any time soon. Tell them we'll be back by the evening. Do not attack until I say so."

"Sure," Trevor responded with an eye roll and walked away.

"Fuck this," Dwight muttered as he glimpsed one last time at the Sanctuary and its deceased invaders, glaring at the underbelly of the van. "Fuck. This."

* * *

Bleary, tired eyes watched him, forming around him a baggy-eyed loop of curiosity and fear. He spoke to them about the travesty laid against their group, told them how many of their loved ones might be dead now or would be soon. Not because of him, however, but on behalf of the snakes who had camouflaged themselves in their garden and slipped poison into their minds. One snake in particular being Dwight who had stolen some of his weapons, his people, and was now killing those who were left.

"He won't stop until he gets to me," Negan said, shuffling around in a tight circle. "He wants to destroy our home and take away everything _you_ all have worked so hard for… He wants it all for himself; probably to be your new leader!" He threw his hands up with a smile and chuckled. "There might be some of you that think that won't be so bad. He doesn't burn the faces off of people who betray him, does he?" Negan held out Lucille and admired her. "He might be merciful enough to let them do it again…unlike me, but he _does_ do this," his finger stood up straight in the air. "He lies to people. He manipulates them to get what he wants and he _uses them_ to his benefit! He has never given you anything, has never provided for you people. He only followed _my_ commands and he did so poorly. Not to mention how much of a coward he was when he stole our medicine and hid out in the forest for a week… He only came crawling back after he got his sister-in-law killed, people, and then he gave up his wife because _he_ didn't want to die. Imagine that shit."

Negan would have pointed Sherry out, but she and his other wives had not shown up for the meeting. Normally he would've stormed in their parlor and calmly but acutely demanded they attend, but he didn't have the patience or the time to bother himself with it. Not with everything being waffle-stomped down the fucking drain.

"He's greedy." Negan's hand dropped along with his tone, Lucille scratching his jeans. "He takes what he wants and runs, but when that shit doesn't work out for him he comes back to take more. Soooo, he'll be back…and we're going to show Dwighty boy who he's fucking messing with. We'll take down every single last fuck who had any affiliation with him, too. We won't be the victim. We'll make them ours."

"Uh, Negan!" A panicked voice called from the back of the audience and people stepped aside for the Savior as a cacophony of gunshots permeated the walls from outside. "Something's going on outside."

"What the fuck is it?" He demanded as the spacious room grew thick with anxiety and unease.

"There's a van. It's heading straight toward us," his Savior informed, his expression worried.

"So take the fucker out. It's only one damn van?" Negan felt his headache coming back. He didn't have time for this shit, but then he started to wonder and his eyes grew wide. "It's not one of ours?"

"No, it's not. It's playing loud music and behind it…" The Saviors voice cut off suddenly, like he was afraid of what he had to stay next. Negan didn't wait, but pushed him aside and strode through the crowd.

"Get everyone back to their rooms!" He yelled as he walked to the Sanctuary doors, but he stopped mid-stride as a boom resounded and the factory walls shook, the lamps and walkways overhead shaking violently as dust sprinkled on them from above. "The fuck-"

The front doors burst open, his men and women scrambling inside with terror-stricken faces as a deafening beat chased them. Negan looked over their heads and saw exactly what drove their fear. It was the dead, hundreds of them, and they were piling into his front fucking yard, bending and pushing down sections of his fence as they crowded through.

"Dwight," he snarled in a lowered whisper.

As his people came in, a few stayed outside shooting the herd, but it was only drawing them in further and keeping their attention.

"Stop!" He yelled through the open doors as one of his Saviors drug an unconscious and battered black woman over the threshold. The ones who had been shooting stopped and ran to the doors, but one got caught by a walker. He screamed as the dead snared him with gnarled fingers and sunk its rotten teeth deep into his neck.

"Barricade the goddamn doors!" Negan barked and the agonized Savior cried after them, his hand outstretched and begging. The man in charge turned away as the door closed with a final resounding thud and he pointed at the Savior with the passed out woman. "Who the fuck is that?"

"The driver of the van. She crashed into the building. I had half a mind to get her out; figured you'd want to see who brought them here." The Savior nodded to the doors and to the dead who screamed and growled outside of them.

Negan bent down to one knee and took her chin between his thumb and index finger. He looked her over and barely recognized her as someone placed in Alexandria, remembering her from the night in the clearing.

"So, the Prick is in on this, too?" He pondered and frowned deeply, searching for Eugene among the crowd. When he found him, the man was nearly sunken in on himself, quivering and pale. "He must not have been as damn beaten down as you fucks claimed. Lock her in a cell."

He let Sasha go not so gently, pushing her head to the side with an abrupt flick and stomping over to Eugene. He grabbed the man by the nape of his neck and pushed him up a short set of stairs. Forcing him to another set of doors, Negan kicked one open violently, the metal a rectangular clanging bell.

"Ding! Ding! Ding, fuckers! It's time for lunch!" Negan exclaimed to the roaring crowd and pushed a cowering Eugene up to a railing that was set above a sea of rotting, reanimated flesh. Eugene tried to squirm away, but his captor had a tight hold on him and shoved him ferociously into the rail, sinking the metal bar into his protruding belly.

"Oh, God! No! Please!" Eugene squealed, terrified. Negan pushed him harder, and Eugene grabbed onto the railing with sweat soaked hands, hanging on desperately.

"I thought you were my friend," Negan whispered to him and hoped he could hear him over the raucous, hungry growls from the dead all around.

"I-I am!" Eugene cried, his lower lip wobbling and wet.

"Friends don't lie to one another, Eugene, and you, _my friend_ , are one of the biggest fucking liars I know."

Eugene shook his head, mumbling incoherently, but Negan couldn't quite make out what he was saying. The walkers were too loud and they were starting to grab at their shoes and lumber up the stairs toward them.

"I'm going to feed you to this pit of hungry fucking biters," Negan said.

"No! I didn't know! I swear!" Eugene yelled in distress. He was half lying again as he knew something like this would happen eventually. He just hadn't known precisely what would happen or when.

"They're gonna rip you limb from limb and I'm gonna laugh while I watch."

"Oh, God! Oh, God! Please! I-I have an idea! I know how to get rid of them! Just don't let me go!" Eugene pleaded to any part of Negan that might still believe in him.

Negan let him go and stepped back to swing Lucille at an advancing walker. She struck it in the temple, tumbling the walking dead back down the stairs and bowling over the ambling bodies below. It gave him a few more seconds to deal with the shivering turd before him.

His nails dug into the sweating blubbery flesh once more. "You have twenty fucking seconds before I bust in both of your knee caps and throw you down those fucking stairs."

Eugene sucked in rapid short breaths, trying to reach some sense of logic and calm amid the pandemonium and impending doom.

"Armor!"

Negan was growing impatient. He yanked on the southern man's neck. "What?"

"Use them as a shield! You are in possession of an adequate amount of men and defenses to destroy the better half of this horde, but evaluate their potential. You can employ them." The Alexandrian was really grasping at straws here, but he wanted to stay alive. Giving his enemy war strategies wasn't his brightest or most loyal moment, but he had little to no other choice. "P-pour molten metal on their heads but leave their mouths clear. As it cools, it'll consolidate with their flesh, renderin' them nearly impossible to kill in one-on-one combat and possibly deafen them. They'll be practically bulletproof and you could lead them anywhere…somehow. I'll think about that… But they can be your front line; take on the brunt of any attacks."

Negan glowered at the back of Eugene's head, considering his idea but wanting to dangle him over the edge of the railing and let the biters strip his skin off in a feeding frenzy. Yet he was useful, resourceful, and quick on his feet. Negan couldn't give that up so easily. He yanked Eugene back as the walkers made it atop the landing once more and pulled him inside. His Saviors barricaded the doors behind them as he drove Eugene into the ground and shoved Lucille under his nose.

"I'm not the type to give second chances much, but when I do it's like finding a hundred dollar bill in the middle of a packed mall and you were the only one to see it. In other words," Negan bent down in his face and dug Lucille's wires in Eugene's cheek as he let out a short howl, "I rarely give second fucking chances!"

Tears mixed with the small droplets of blood on Eugene's face, and he whimpered, his eyes squeezed shut as he nodded with understanding.

"I'll give one to you." Negan removed Lucille from Eugene's cheek, sliding the wires down slowly before lifting her away. It looked as if she'd slashed him with her claws, and in a way, she did. "Consider yourself within that lucky fucking few. Prove you're not a cowardly lying fuck like the rest of 'em or I'll pick out the prettiest little dead mamas out there and dip you dick first over their wide-open, lipless mouths. Either way, I'll be making a man out of you like I promised."

Eugene nodded again, more eagerly this time, but the strain of making an agreement was clear on his face. Negan had one question for him before he let him get up.

"Who are you?" He asked.

Eugene opened his eyes, a bit confused. He didn't understand the question but knew there was only one right, specific answer. Negan lifted his brows and said, "When my people promise their devotion to me and only me, they tell me who they are, and their answer every single time is… Negan. So, one last time, who are you?"

"N-" Eugene swallowed thickly. "Negan. Always Negan."

"Damn right." He glared angrily at the succumbed man before standing up and addressing his people once more. "This is what I mean!" Lucille pointed to the barricaded doors. "Dwight and his friends from Alexandria want us all dead. Well, I say they have no fucking right! I am no one's enemy. I bring order to the fucking shitstorm that's been raging all over our world, giving people a better way of life. _They_ are the ones who want to see it dead and rotting just like those poor, forgotten souls out there! _They_ are our enemies! And right now, you all only have one of two options: stand up with your Saviors, the ones who have provided and protected you all this time, or don't and die a cold, painful death." His gaze swung over multiple faces in a matter of seconds. "I want you to live. I want you all to be happy, but not while our adversaries attack us like _cowards_."

Negan glared at Eugene pointedly. "This one here knows our enemies. In fact, he _was_ one until five fucking minutes ago before he prudently switched sides. He's going to make sure we meet our foes face-to-fucking-face, and I fully plan on taking an eye for an eye. That right, Eugene?"

"Y-yes, sir," Eugene's feeble reply came and Negan chuckled.

"It only took a giant, angry mob of dead fuckwits to understand what was going on, but I guess shit could've been worse. We've already go-"

The sound of breaking glass interrupted him and he pivoted to see gray and porous arms reaching through the windows. _His_ windows.

"They're breaking in!" A woman screamed and horrified cries carried after her.

"Shit!" Negan bellowed. "I spoke too goddamn soon!"

"Push them back!" His men yelled out, but there was no point. They were beginning to twist and wriggle their way in.

He and Simon locked eyes for a split second and instantly both men knew what the other was thinking. Negan barked out orders for his Saviors to grab blunt objects to bludgeon the dead with while Simon ushered a few to obtain their more powerful weaponry. The old and defenseless patrons of the Sanctuary took shelter higher up in the factory, locking themselves away until the danger passed.

"Kill as many as you can, but not all. I wanna march a fucking army of dead down to my old pal Prick's place once this shit is settled!" Negan ordered and set to work, hitting and subduing as many rancid heads as he could with each swing.

His Saviors fought hard, some losing their lives in the fray, but they eventually worked their way outside. Simon and his group brought out heavy arsenals, but Negan didn't want too much of it to go to waste. He was going to need a lot of it when he got himself out of this shit-fuck of a situation.

"Throw some grenades outside of the fence. It'll distract some of these stupid fuckers and clear 'em out a bit," Negan directed Simon and he obliged. It worked temporarily, but the dead were a fickle bunch.

Large trucks were brought out, the idea of pushing the group of dead beyond the fence and blocking them was an attractive one, but it didn't hold them for long. The fence itself was already bent in and bowed, but the walkers contorted it further by their sheer mass, moving around the large vehicles and falling back inside. Eventually Negan had no choice but to call his men back inside.

He took a few more straggling dead out, bashing their heads in one after the other. A strong grip snagged the collar of his leather jacket and Negan spun, lifting his foot to stomp down on the walker's knee. It crumbled to the ground, its right leg gone except for its seeping thigh, and Negan gave Lucille a break as his boot crunched through its ripe skull.

"Everybody in!" He yelled and began backing up to the doors. He observed his men fighting off the biters, moving back at the most opportune chance, and vexation fanned the flames inside of him. The dead were a mob; nearly taking over his home like a cockroach infested crack house and it sickened him to see the sight; to know it was a reality.

This wasn't supposed to be his debacle. This happened to other people, but his teeth ground together the longer he stared at the disintegrating bodies blundering after his people. It was happening to him and it was complete and utter bullshit. Negan nearly called retreating off, wanting to strike every cadaverous creep down, but a peculiar sight stopped him.

In the distance the dead were still converging on the road, waiting in meandering lines to find their way past his walls, but some of them weren't. Some of them stood stalk still, watching the fracas stoically, or so it seemed. Their actions were restricted, and Negan found it harder to keep them in sight as more corpses crossed in front of them. He squinted his eyes, trying to determine what the hell he was actually seeing, but a moment later the apathetic figures were gone.

 _The hell?_ Negan thought, but soon he was surrounded again and he forgot all about the oddly motionless figures.

"Inside!" He ordered once more, and his men fell back, gathering inside the Sanctuary while simultaneously repelling the dead with hits, blows, and gunshots.

"We'll have to wait them out," he announced once the doors and windows were secured. He directed his Saviors to keep everyone off of the first floor. "Take those tanks and lead them out if you can. This shit wasn't as easy as I thought it might be."

His men complied and Negan found Eugene trying to blend in among them, locking eyes with him as he spoke to the room.

"Light the furnace." His voice searched for anyone who would comply. "Light them all and find as many pieces of useless metal as you can find. We're blacksmiths in this bitch tonight; make some fucking armor for our newly appointed Saviors."

The Saviors gazed around at one another, looking for clarification from each other as to what their leader was talking about. Negan held a grimy and bloody Lucille out to Eugene, setting the spotlight on him.

"This genius here has maybe come up with one of the most fucking insane ways to fix this shit outside. I'm giving him a shot to prove himself damn useful." Negan smiled wolfishly and directed his words to Eugene. "I'm giving you the reins, butterball. Unless you want a crown of silver for your own, I suggest you not fuck this up."

Eugene shifted on his feet, his eyes skittishly roving from the left to the right. He cleared his throat and said decidedly, "I will require as many chains as you have available, and if it could be arranged, some fresh meat."

"Kinky," Negan grinned and set his people to their tasks. He approached Eugene. "This better work, Einstein."

"It'll be trial and error." He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. "But I have confidence this will work."

Negan narrowed unblinking eyes. "We'll see… but if it doesn't, well," Negan shrugged and flicked a thumb at the obstructed windows and doors, "at least you'll have hundreds of new friends to meet."

Eugene repressed the urged to gulp and spun away, not knowing exactly where he was going. He only knew he needed a moment to himself to think. How was he going to do what Negan wanted while saving his own life and that of his friends? Was there a way or was he royally screwed? Eugene was sure this was the worst situation he'd ever been in, but he would come up with something. He always did.

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **Helloooooo! I've kept you all waiting long enough, I suppose. How's the show been going? Has it been any good? I keep hearing how lame it's getting and it makes me sad. My friend said one episode (I think it was this past one) made her cry, so that's good. Right? Anyway, it's gotta be better than this! I haven't been feeling too motivated or creative lately. Does this chapter make sense? Anything seem odd, weird, or illogical? Does it just plain suck? Let me know. I'm curious because sometimes I'll be writing and have to stop due to internal verbal abuse against myself, "What the hell are you even talking about!? This shit doesn't make any sense! Are you dumb or just stupid!?" And then I delete everything and go pout...**

 **Also, sorry Everly and Daryl aren't in this chapter. I thought about going back and adding them in, but I was cautioned not to force it (which seems like sound advice). We will definitely see them next chapter, though. Sorry again and have an awesome weekend!**


	67. Chapter 67

**Chapter 67**

The town was hushed, almost sedated, in the aftermath of its recovery. Men and women alike worked to subdue reforming bodies and remove them from the streets and front lawns, but a few were kept functioning to moan and beseech their executioners from the pit outside Alexandria's walls. The birds joined in the disharmonious melody, adding a chirping rhythm that sung of the approaching dawn, and as reaching sunlight illumined the edges of the atmosphere with glowing fingertips, they sang louder.

"Why are birds so damn noisy this early in the morning?" Carl commented with a grunt as he hooked his forearms under the armpits of a dead Savior. "Shut up, birds!"

"I think you're only encouraging them." I smiled as I stepped between the Saviors legs, lifting them up from the knee. We lumbered to the dismantled gate. "Maybe you should go get some sleep after we dump this one."

"Like I could sleep if I wanted to," he replied, but I saw how his eye drooped at the mention of getting any sort of rest.

I hoisted the dead woman's legs up, catching them in a tighter grip and wincing from the soreness in my muscles. "Wouldn't hurt to try. Just cover your head with a pillow or turn on some soft music. They'll stop eventually, but you should be asleep before then."

Carl sighed out a "sure" and I hoped he would take my advice. The better half of us had been up all night with a few Alexandrians able to find sleep. King Ezekiel and his troops had left an hour earlier along with the Somerset soldiers. He'd gone with the promise to prowl the streets looking for residual enemies before returning home, but we wouldn't know if he had found luck or misfortune in that endeavor until we met with him again later in the day. I was looking forward to that. I didn't feel comfortable with splitting up; of us Alexandrians being here alone with only the Hilltop people to call company. We _were_ armed now, and Negan's Sanctuary was sure to be riddled with the dead and partly blown in from Dwight's attack by this point, but I couldn't discredit his resiliency. Our two groups alone didn't compare to his; he still outnumbered us by a long shot, and with Eugene as his hostage, he also had leverage.

"One, two, three," Carl counted and we tossed the limp, heavy body in the pit on the ternary digit.

I took in a deep breath, trying to catch it while Carl pushed the hair back from his forehead. Tedious movement to the left caught my eye and I glimpsed Rick watching us as he walked over.

"Sorry I can't be of any help." His hands hung at his sides, but they twitched as he spoke and I saw pain in his eyes.

"It's fine, dad. You should be resting," Carl said.

"I've had enough rest." There was a clear edge to Rick's voice. One that suggested he was holding himself back from lashing out. He smiled thinly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Daryl just finished buryin' our dead. He was lookin' for you, Everly."

I smiled back and took Carl by the shoulders. "Maybe you should head in like I suggested. You've done more than plenty, and we've basically cleaned this place up. You're good."

"I can do more," Carl insisted. "I'm not even tired."

I hugged him. "It's not up for debate. Go."

"Man, you're back for a few hours and you're already bossing me around," he said as I let him go, but he grinned and sighed heavily. " _Okay_ , if you insist."

Carl bypassed the moat, slowing down as he reached his father. Rick put an arm around him, kissing his hair. "Good night, son. I'll see you later in the day."

"Night," the teenager responded and slumped away.

I made sure he was out of earshot before I looked at Rick, putting my hands in my back pockets to get comfortable.

"He's just worried about you."

"He shouldn't be. I'm fine." Rick nodded. I examined the dark bags under his eyes and the pallor of his skin. He didn't look fine. "I'm more worried about him and all this…shit that's going on. I don't want him in the middle of it."

"None of us do, but he's a fighter and he's strong. Like his daddy."

Rick chuckled. "Yeah, headstrong's more like it. I'm surprised you got him to go in."

I shrugged. "Not giving him a choice was key. Plus, he was too tired to argue back much."

We stood in a short moment of silence before I decided to take the initiative. If no one else was going to try to convince Rick he needed to see a doctor, I had to. He couldn't go on like this. He might be on his feet and alert, but he was not in a state to be running anything, let alone a full-blown war.

"You need help, Rick." I shook my head sympathetically. "You say you're fine, but you don't look good. And if you don't want to rest, the least you can do is see the doctor at Hilltop, for your sake and your childrens'. You can't take care of them if you're not well."

"I know," Rick replied abruptly, his voice at a higher volume. He looked around sheepishly and spoke again in a normal tone. "I know all that. Don't you think I've known that since day one? It's all I ever think about, and I'm tryin' to hold shit together here. I'm tryin' to be a leader…but I can't do that if I'm not here."

"What about when you're dead?" I challenged. "Can you do it then?"

He scoffed and stepped out of the way of two Hilltoppers discarding a dead body. "I ain't dyin'."

"But you're not getting well. Not as quickly as you could be if you were resting more." I released a short breath and shrugged. "I want what's best for us all. You getting better is part of that; _especially_ since we're fighting to win. We need you when he strikes back because it's going to happen no matter what anyone thinks. I know him better than that. He is not going to just let this all go unpunished."

Rick didn't respond right away. We listened to people talking quietly, dragging corpses on the asphalt, but the loudest noise of all was the perpetual groaning from the dead; an agonizing dirge that grated the heart as much as it did the ears.

"I can't feel it." He whispered, and I strained to make out what he'd said. His bandaged right hand went up. "What can a doctor do with somethin' that doesn't work anymore? That has no feeling? It's pointless. Might as well cut the damn thing of and be done with it."

"Don't talk like that. You just need time to heal," I placated.

"Time won't do shit, and I'm not feelin' sorry for myself. I'm bein' realistic. If I go to that doctor, I'm going to ask him to cut it off."

"Rick-"

"No." He waved the dressed extremity in the air, silencing me. "It's how I want it done. I ain't worryin' over a dead, useless hand. I'll go see Dr. Carson at the Hilltop…and I'll ask him to take it off, but not until this war it over. Not until I see this done."

I kept my mouth closed, not wanting to press the issue further. I nodded demurely and looked away, his affliction too intense. Rick wasn't a man that was swayed easily and it seemed he'd already made up his mind; it was his body, after all. I admired his strong spirit, but it didn't make me worry any less. I could perhaps get Daryl involved and he might push Rick further to get something done now versus later, but sometimes it was best to leave things be.

"No infection?" I asked.

"Naw." Rick deflated when I didn't argue anymore. "I'm keepin' 'em clean, takin' some old antibiotics."

"Keep it that way." I began to walk off, but stopped when I got to his side and looked up at him. "You have no argument when it's over."

"Yeah." He blinked. "Figured I wouldn't."

"Then make yourself useful and rest up. Maggie and them will be back soon and we all will have plenty to talk about then."

"You too, Everly. I ain't the only one beaten down."

His smile was fleeting yet soft. I rubbed his shoulder, a parting gesture of no ill will for our miniscule disagreement. We cared about one another. All of us here did, but sometimes our emotions got the better of us, and when you had a strong sense of knowing what was best, heads tended to butt.

"Okay… I'll find Daryl and get some sleep."

I left, casting one glance over my shoulder at Rick who stood in the middle of the road, facing out. He was watching the road, no doubt anticipating Dwight's return with the rest of our group. I could sense a fear there as well. A fear that maybe Dwight, Michonne, Maggie, and everyone else wouldn't be the ones who showed up, but it would be those dark angels instead, leading a pack of hungry and vicious dead. Could they turn the tide against us? I hoped not, prayed for it to never be so, but I didn't kid myself into believing that it couldn't happen. Hope for the best, but plan and expect for the worst.

Wandering further into town, I found Daryl hosing his hands and arms off by the side of one of the houses. I stepped up on the sidewalk, folding my arms as I watched him. He was engrossed with the water, scrubbing his arms as if they'd never be clean again. I found the sight endearing at first, but I started to turn concerned the more diligently he rubbed his arms.

"You know we have showers, right?" I said and he jerked his head up with a start.

He observed the hose in his hand before letting it drop to the ground and turning the valve, the once surging water slowing to a trickle and then releasing the last drops. He wiped the excess moisture off his arms as he walked to me.

"Didn't want to look for one," he replied and kissed me.

"Are you alright?" I leaned back to look in his eyes. They looked distant, scared.

"Fine. Tired."

A silent breath escaped me, trying to expel the anxiety and guilt in my chest, but it didn't help. I was the reason he was feeling this way; part of it, anyway. If I hadn't have hesitated, if I was a stronger person, more ruthless, there would be less for him to worry about when it came to me in this fight.

"I'm sorry."

Daryl looked back at me silently, his face blank and isolated but his eyes expressing everything he wasn't saying.

"I fucked up." I shrugged apologetically. "I didn't want to…hesitate or second-guess myself. I didn't want to put you in that situation. I just…froze when the gun went off. I…" A frustrated sigh left me and I looked away. "I'm not the best at fighting. I got lucky when I was out there on my own. I was good at hiding, being small. Here I'm a giant. Everyone sees me and it scares the shit out of me. What I did to protect myself doesn't work anymore and it's taking me a while to adjust, but I'll try harder."

I met his eyes and grabbed his hand, hoping he'd have faith in me; that he wasn't too upset.

"I will do what I have to to make sure nothing like that happens again. I swear. Please forgive me."

We stared at one another, seconds ticking by as the birds' morning song circled around us like a halo. Daryl kept mute, and one might think that maybe he'd fallen asleep on his feet had he not been looking at me so intently. He practically had me pinned to the spot; his gaze was so deep and unmoving.

"I forgive ya," he whispered in a gravelly, quiet voice. "And I believe you when ya say it won't happen again…because I ain't gonna let it… You're stayin' here from now on. The only time you'll leave this place is if they force us out or it's done, but not before."

"Daryl," I began.

"No, Everly!" His voice was sharp, its edge so keen I felt it cut through me. "I thought I could do this. That you'd be okay if you were with me, but I almost watched you die. It's my fault." His face broke then and his eyes began to well. "I've dug enough fuckin' graves, buried plenty of fuckin' bodies… Yours ain't gonna be the next."

His hand broke from mine and he turned deeper into the town, stomping off toward the house that he once shared with others before we'd been taken.

"I'm gonna shower," he called over his shoulder and abruptly left it at that.

I let him go. I understood what he was feeling and I felt tremendous shame for causing him such pain. I thought I'd let myself down, but I'd wound up doing much more and I wasn't sure how to fix it. I didn't want to stay behind to sit here and worry if he'd be the one to show back up or that I'd open my door to a monster instead. I also didn't want to form a bigger rift between Daryl and me by arguing against staying; I'd already disappointed him and he was clearly upset with me.

The toe of my boot kicked a rock, sending it bouncing down the concrete. I followed it, kicking it all the way to the house that I had once called home a long time ago. A house whose residents had been dying off one by one and now stood nearly empty. I wondered if Daryl and I would have our own home here one day; if this would be the one. Then I remembered that he'd left me on the sidewalk and I imagined a future where I'd be spending many nights alone. I imagined him doing the same, yet in both fantasies we were alone because of me.

 _Whether you're dead or just stupid, you'll end up losing him_ , a nasty voice in my head said, but it was only nasty because it was a hard truth to accept. Was I losing him? Surely he didn't love me any less for what happened, but maybe my recklessness was forcing him to consider losing me. And that possibility might be enough to ruin what we had.

So, how could I compromise? How could I stay in the action while not being a part of it? There were a lot of men and women who would be fighting by Daryl, but they weren't enough for me. I wanted to be there with him. He wasn't the only one in jeopardy of losing someone. I was too. I decided sleep might be the better option for now. A short time apart and rest would be enough of a breather for the two of us, and when we woke we could talk more; come up with a solution we both liked. All I knew was that he wasn't leaving me and I would do whatever it took to never hurt him again.

* * *

Jesus pulled the SUV up to Alexandria's gate and did a 180, turning the vehicle around so that it faced out should there be a need to leave quickly. Dwight did the same, parking on the opposite side of the road. The vehicles gave the town a bit of shelter as its gate was still open, but it wasn't much to rely on. The dead Saviors' trucks hadn't moved and Jesus had the thought to park them parallel to the gateway if it wouldn't close. It would have to do, but he wasn't too worried about any surprise visitors.

They piled around, a tangle of exhausted limbs and bruised souls. Their night had been a success to say the least, but Sasha's fate was heavy on their hearts and a pit was forming in their stomachs, much like the one that surrounded the front of their town with dead and moaning bodies. A broken plan didn't sit well, especially when it was one of war. The fact remained that any slight chance Negan got to slip through their fingers would be their loss and possibly lead to their deaths.

Dwight scrutinized the Alexandrians, gauging their tense faces. Tonight had meant a lot to them, and while they'd accomplished more than what could've happened, it still wasn't enough.

"You guys are back," Eric announced. He looked just as tired as they felt.

"We are," Michonne replied, not giving any information. "Where's Rick?"

Eric pointed over his shoulder. "He just started back inside. Is everything okay? How did it go?"

The group of them looked at one another and Michonne let out a sigh through her nose.

"I'll go find Rick." She left and Eric remained perplexed, worry starting to show through the fatigue.

"Everything is fine for now," Maggie said. "But something unexpected happened and now we've got to come up with a new plan."

She gave Dwight a sideways glare which he took gracefully. He looked away and inhaled deeply, biting his tongue so as to not start an argument. He felt for Sasha, he did, but she had made the choice to kamikaze into the Sanctuary. It was clearly what she had wanted and yet the Alexandrians demanded to suspend everything on the small chance that she might be alive. He didn't feel her life was worth losing all of theirs, but what choice did he have now? Patience was the hand he was dealing, or at least that was the bluff he was putting on. He'd give them a chance, but if they postponed too long, Dwight was moving in on his own. He just hoped the Kingdom and the rest of Hilltop would have his back; Somerset alone wouldn't be enough to fight with him.

"Could you gather everyone in the church?" Maggie asked Eric.

"Uh, yeah." He nodded. "Everyone who's still here or awake."

"We don't need everyone," Jesus started past into the town. "Just those of us who are on a need-to-know basis. We'll fill everyone else in later."

"Looks like Ezekiel and his crew left?" Dwight walked beside Eric and Maggie past the bent gate.

"Yeah, he took off after a while so as not to keep the others waiting. They went Savior hunting, or that's what he said he was doing. I'm sure he's back home now."

"Did he say when he'd be back?" Maggie questioned.

"Some time today if we don't go to him first."

"That may be what we do," she said as she started walking faster, creating distance between them. "I'll meet you guys in the church."

Eric slowed as he watched her go, confused. "Is…everything okay?"

Dwight looked around, matching Eric's ginger pace. The town was a mess, but much cleaner compared to what it was hours before. His men were inspecting the place, looking at familiar faces that were now pale and blue. Dwight had chosen to avoid that. He knew what dead bodies looked like, he didn't need to stare them in the face; especially ones he used to know.

"Yes and no. We got the horde to the Sanctuary just fine. I'm sure they're all knee deep in shit right now." He revealed to Eric, trying his hardest not to think of Sherry but failing miserably.

"And?" Eric pressed. "That's good. I know we've been up half the night, but I didn't expect everyone to be so solemn when they got back."

"Sasha didn't make it, and Eugene's still prisoner there if he's isn't dead by now, too."

"Oh," Eric replied and remained quiet the rest of the walk to the church.

When they got to the doors, Dwight allowed Eric ahead of him. He wanted to stay in the back, listen in on discussion first before he spoke up. He found a spot behind the last pew where he leaned against the wall, his right arm resting on the rifle strapped around his shoulder. He glanced back at the doorway, morning sunlight now breaking out through the trees, and saw his men walking in.

"Randy and Wade are on their way back." Trevor came up beside him, leaning against the wall as the rest of the guys filed in after him. "They said the Sanctuary is basically fucked. They've barricade themselves inside."

Dwight didn't show it, but his heart was pounding in his chest as anxious relief filled him. Not only because the walkers were doing their job – he knew that would be a given after Sasha's stunt – but that Sherry and the others were safe inside the Sanctuary, for now. The next hassle would be getting them out unharmed before or during their next attack.

"He also said that they've started letting some of the walkers inside."

Dwight looked over at Trevor sharply.

"They're letting the walkers _inside_?"

Trevor looked at him from the sides of his eyes and nodded with a told-you-so look on his face.

"It isn't going to take Negan long to bounce back. We should've hit them when we had the chance."

He wracked his brain for a possible explanation as to why they would be bringing the walkers indoors instead of keeping them out. What would be the point in that? They could be killing them off in small numbers and piling the bodies somewhere but there were so many of them. Whatever it was they were doing, it wasn't anything good, and Dwight should've known it wouldn't have taken Negan long to figure something out.

"Fuck."

* * *

Eugene watched nervously as a few men moved the barricades from a back door. The back of the Sanctuary wasn't as crowded as the front, so they had an easier time persuading in a couple of the dead and shutting the doors back on the rest. It couldn't be used for long as the commotion would draw more of them to that spot; however, there were plenty of entrances in this place to choose from. Eugene wasn't taking the chance of making it any easier for the hundreds left out there to have a shot at getting inside.

The Saviors covered the door with the barricades again, the unlucky souls who were not chosen scratching the door, begging to let in.

" _Please_ ," they seemed to say through their groans, " _let us in._ "

The group of men waited, holding on to the struggling, growling bodies as they fought against their meal. They just wanted a taste, a quick bite or lick, and as Eugene stood there, silent and oblivious, the closer they got to one.

"We're waiting for you, dipshit," one man said, pushing the body in his hands further away as it snapped its teeth at him, and Eugene felt his face flush.

"Oh, right." He looked around, not quite sure where he should even lead them. "Uh…this way."

He figured back in the common area would be best. Everyone had gone to the upper floors, so the space was clear and large enough to experiment in. Those who weren't currently helping Eugene or patrolling the lower floors for break-ins were off finding metal and melting it. Negan had them fire up several of the furnaces in the Sanctuary and so far he had plenty to begin with.

"Uh, put them there." Eugene pointed to the middle of the large room, and the Saviors followed begrudgingly.

"If I get bit, I'm going after your fat ass first," one Savior muttered to him as he passed, the walker snarling in Eugene's face as it was whisked by.

He ignored the comment, not particularly feeling threatened by it because a walker will go for anything that moves, but he did feel uncomfortable telling people what to do. He hadn't expected to take on this role and he wasn't filling it quite well. He wasn't a natural leader by heart and considering he was basically a lamb in the lion's den, he felt totally out of his element.

Eugene sucked it up though, using his critical mind to get started with the process of testing his hypothesis. He wasn't sure how well the walkers' heads would hold up against the molten alloy, and sure enough the first one they poured it on had its head seared straight through. It crumpled to the floor, dead for good in an instant.

"What now, genius?" A young, good looking guy asked. His name was Theodore.

"I would say let the metal cool a bit before we pour it again." Eugene thought. "Also, that corpse was at least thirty days past its expiration date, so make sure the next ones you fetch are less decomposed, fresher."

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Whatever you fucking say."

After a moment of letting the dissolved mixture sit, they sheeted the second walkers head. Its rotten flesh scorched and the odor was sickeningly pungent, but it didn't die like the first one. The metal began to cool quickly, encasing its head in a perfect orb as the walker continued to snarl and reach for whatever it could find. The metal had blinded it and covered its ears. The only senses the dead man had left were touch, taste, and smell.

"The strap," Eugene directed.

A woman, Arat, stepped forward with a disgusted look. She slipped the band around the walkers head as it was held back, careful not to burn her fingers. Attached to the band was a rod which dangled a small piece of bloody meat at the end. Once it was let go, Arat dodged swiping claws as the walker raged, but it stopped, sensing something different. It jerked its head this way and that, feeling the weight of the bobbing meat attached to its head. It threw its arms out, searching but unable to find what was quite literally right in front of its face. The animated corpse stumbled around, going in circles as it grabbed at the air. A few of the Saviors jumped back giggling as it got too close and at one point the whole room was enveloped in stifled laughter when the walker ran straight into a wall and fell on its back, its tongue waggling in the air for the food it sensed was there.

Eugene didn't join in the amusement. He was too engrossed with what he could do next. This design wasn't working at all. The walker had absolutely no direction and Negan would see that instantly. He was going to have to come up with something else, something more substantial. The tricky part was finding a way to make it look good to Negan while exposing a weakness in the contrivance for his friends.

He looked around the room, contemplating multiple solutions when his eyes landed on a pile of rusty chains. His brows hooded his eyes as his studied them, picturing in his head how to use them. Then the brilliance hit him. If he did this just the right way, surely Rick and the others would know how to turn the tables back on them.

"Remove the strap and subdue the body," Eugene interrupted the conservatively jeering crowd. "I've got a better idea."

* * *

Fat Joey unlocked the cell door, stepping aside as it swung inward revealing the crumpled woman inside. She lay like a rag doll, her body contorted in a way that would leave it aching once she moved - if she moved at all.

"She alive?" Negan asked Fat Joey.

"Well, seems to be," he answered. He wanted to say that it would be obvious if she wasn't, but Fat Joey never said things like that out loud; certainly never to his leader. Negan watched him patiently, and it took him a moment to understand that he wanted him to physical check the woman. "Oh! Sorry, sir."

Fat Joey rushed inside the cramped room and bent down to one knee with a grunt. He pushed the woman's shoulder back gently, looking at her pale and swollen face as a painful moan escaped her. He jerked back, unsure if it was a live, human noise or an I'm-dead-and-about-to-eat-you one. Licking his lips, he edged forward and placed two shaking fingers on her neck to feel a small, slow pulse. The Savior was relived and with a few more grunts of his own, he awkwardly got back to his feet and exited the room.

"She's still alive."

Negan gave him a grin, patting his shoulder. He stepped into the room and stopped by Sasha's side. He gazed down at her, examining all the blood and cuts that covered her body. She was starting to come to, her face scrunching up in pain as she began to tenderly roll from side to side. As consciousness began to flood her system, tears leaked from her eyes; a silent sign that she had really done a number on herself, and Negan could hardly find the compassion to feel sorry for her. At one point in the past he might have. Not today.

He started whistling as he bent down to a squat, raising his volume as Sasha kept her eyes shut. Eventually, she opened one watery, red eye, blinking at the pain from the light. She focused on the shapes in front of her, not entirely knowing where she was at until she saw a familiar face and the memories flooded her. Bob. Her brother. The van. Abraham. Hundreds of walkers. Lucille. Negan...

Her eye closed as she wept; her entire body a center for misery. She focused on every ache and pain and came to the conclusion that her left arm and leg were broken. Possibly a few ribs with a concussion to boot. How she was still alive, holed up in a cell inside the Sanctuary, she didn't know, but she was none too pleased about it.

"You know, I would call you a badass for what you did, but seeing as it was _my_ front yard your fucking van led a creep fest into, I'm not fucking impressed." Negan began tapping the ground with Lucille by Sasha's head. "Not to mention, you made a nice fucking dent when you ran your van into the side of my home. _That_ was some crazy shit, but I gotta say that you suck at killing yourself. Was that what you were trying to do?"

Lucille hit the ground again and again, the sound invading Sasha's pounding skull like a hammer.

"Or was that not part of the plan? You see, I'm confused. Does Rick typically send his people on suicide missions? He cares that fucking little?" Negan grinned as Sasha moaned incoherently. "I couldn't tell if that was a yes or not."

"It was me," the words struggled out of her mouth, but they were clear.

"You?" Lucille halted her rapping as Negan thought that through. "So, you wanted to drive head first into my home, bring a fuck ton of dead shits crawling after you with that god awful music playing on full fucking blast?" He chuckled and shook his head. "You woke up the whole goddamn neighborhood with that shit, and now a whole ass load of biters are stumbling around my lawn, knocking at my damn door. I don't like people at my fucking door; certainly not the dead ones."

Sasha coughed, the action tensing her body as intense pain coursed through her. She stifled a scream, trying to relax as her breathing became labored. She didn't feel right and she felt that she quite possibly might be dying.

"I know you're in a lot of pain," Negan sighed and rubbed his eyes. His lack of sleep was beginning to catch up to him. "Quite frankly, I'm glad you are. You fucked me over; you and your dumb fuck town full of whiney, pussy bitches. But that what you wanted, right? You assholes started this shit by killing my men. _YOU_ picked a fight with _me_ , and _now_ you're trying to take my goddamn home. It isn't going to work!"

Negan voice pierced Sasha's ears, a ringing sound temporarily causing the right one to go deaf. She mumbled in exhaustion and agony as the ringing subsided, but he was still there, holding up Lucille to admire her glinting wires. He sighed once more.

"I want to know what's going to happen next," he said lowly, not looking at her. "I want to know what Rick has planned and who he has planned it with."

He looked down at her then, Lucille slipping down in his cradling palm. She stared back at him a moment, wondering why the walkers hadn't eaten the whole factory by now, but then she laughed. It was painful, yet she couldn't help it. Negan frowned as Sasha sputtered and gasped from both pain and amusement, his temper flaring.

"You think," she muttered over a thick tongue, "that I would tell you anything?" She laughed more, whooping as she cried in both discomfort and amusement. "Fuck you! I don't have that much longer. You were right when you said I suck at killing myself, but I'll get there eventually. It's just taking me longer than I anticipated."

"Answer me," Negan demanded, furious.

"You don't scare me anymore," Sasha replied, the laughter gone. "I ain't answering shit. The last and only thing I will say to you is that you'll get what ya asked for. It's gonna come at you hard and my only regret is that I won't be able to see your ugly fucking face when it hits you. I _wish_ I could watch you die, but I'm gonna beat you to it." Her heart rate spiked as her fury boosted the last of her energy. She lifted her head up as she spoke, her words soaked in vitriol. "I'll be waitin' for you on the other side, though. Me, Abraham, and Glenn, and everyone else you've murdered, you piece of shit! We'll all be waiting for _you_!"

Negan was silent, his jaw working back and forth as he gazed down at the dying woman. She collapsed on the concrete floor, having expended all of her energy. He thought about ending her right then and there with Lucille, but that would be a mercy. Instead, he stood and left her in the dank cell to die alone and painfully.

"Lock her in there," he told Fat Joey.

The Savior looked down at the woman before following his leader's orders. Slowly, he closed the door and locked it. As soon as the key left the bolt, Negan snatched it right out of his hand.

"Mark the door so we know she's in there. It won't be too long until the bitch dies."

Negan stomped away as Fat Joey thought about what to do. He stared at the barren door briefly before turning to go down the corridor to a room with office supplies. In a desk drawer, he found a black sharpie and headed back. Again, he stared at the lightly colored door for a while, feeling guilty. He didn't want to leave the woman locked inside to die, but he no longer had the key. Plus, he didn't want to die himself for disobeying. This was the only choice he had.

With the cap off of the marker, he scribbled on the door quickly, wanting to be as far away from it as possible. When he was done he left and didn't look back, but he was sure the marked words would be visible in his dreams, haunting him every time he closed his eyes. Forever in his mind they would whisper, "Dead inside."

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **I'm super sorry it took me so long to post this. I can't believe I waited so long and I'll try not to let it happen again. The ending is too near for me to drag it out, but perhaps I'm avoiding it, lol. Anyway, I hope you all have been well and thanks for being patient. Maybe the wait was worth it...? :/**


	68. Chapter 68

**Chapter 68**

It was bright and warm, sunlight streaming through my bedroom window in a sunny morning greeting. Or was it morning? I went to flip over to see if Negan's men had been kind enough to leave my beside clock, but something heavy and large blocked me, fitting itself entirely against my back. I squinted, feeling for the covers to push them away. Smooth, warm skin against my fingertips startled me, and I grabbed onto a large, callused hand on my hip. I smiled.

 _Daryl._

After our conversation last night, I'd gone to bed with guilt and contrition heavy in my heart. The feelings had covered me like a mourning veil and I'd wallowed in it, unsuccessfully holding back stinging tears until I fell asleep. The knowledge of what I'd put Daryl through and the memory of how disconnected he'd looked as he stood with filth staining his skin was almost more than I could bear. I'd gotten out of bed multiple times, my hand heating the cool metal of my doorknob as I fretted over going to him or not, but each attempt ended in frustration as I slunk back to my bed – the only one in town. That hadn't helped my guilt much either. But eventually I fell asleep, and despite how restless it started out, I'd slept hard. I felt refreshed, my body less sore; almost like a new person entirely. I hoped Daryl felt the same way.

He snuggled up tighter against me, pressing into my backside. I bit my lip with a smile and closed my eyes, not wanting to get up just yet. His beard tickled me as his lips ghosted over my neck and with each feather-light kiss my shame began to melt away. He moved, sliding the hand on my hip under my shirt, up my belly and to my breast. As his lips moved past my jaw, I turned to meet them with my own. He kissed me deeply, his weight pressing me on my back into the mattress, but something felt off; different yet familiar. I didn't stop, however, loving the taste of him and how his fingers felt around the waistband of my pajama pants, feeling their way inside.

A moan left my mouth, filling his. I clutched onto his board shoulders, feeling the cool, smooth sensation of cured leather under my hands… Immediately I stopped. Confused, my eyes snapped open as I pulled away from him, his lips leaving mine with a smack. Where I expected to see blue I saw a burnished brown, and his eyes crinkled at the sides in a wicked grin.

Negan began to chuckle as I stared at him in horrified disbelief. I couldn't find my voice to scream nor my strength to fight. I couldn't react. I couldn't do a damn thing other than lay there and watch him laugh at me.

"Don't look so fucking shocked to see me. I hope you weren't expecting someone else in bed with you, _wife_."

I opened my mouth to scream and in a flash his hand clamped over my face, muffling me. I struggled, eyes shut tight as I thrashed, hit, and kicked him. I didn't think my actions were doing much good as the more I moved, the more tangled and confined I became in the sheets. I heard Negan say my name over and over, but he sounded different now; panicky. I pushed away from him, struggling to the side of the bed, and as I began to fall over the side, a strange sensation bolted through me; like I was crashing down the descent of the highest roller coaster.

I jerked up fully awake now. Everything was like it had been seconds ago, yet Negan wasn't beside me in bed anymore – Daryl was. I sighed with both relief and stress, running a hand over my sweaty face as he put comforting arms around me. Daryl breathed consoling whispers in my ear, apologizing for things he'd hadn't done. I turned into him and buried my face in his neck, horrified at myself. The dream had been so vivid; everything I'd felt had been so real. For a moment, my nightmare had been a reality, and I was currently clinging onto Daryl as if he'd evaporate right out of my arms and I'd be left with nothing yet again.

"You came to me," I whispered after calming and ducked from under his chin to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry about last night."

His thumb ran down my cheek. "Me too. I didn't like leavin' ya the way I did. No matter what happened."

I took his hand in mine and kissed him, the impression of my nightmare lingering but beginning to fade.

"Can't say I blame you." I smiled thinly in an attempt to lessen the burden he felt. "I might've done the same if I were you. It wasn't my sharpest moment and it almost cost us both."

"You want to talk about it?" He asked and it took me a second longer than it should have for me to realize that he meant my dream. I shook my head.

"Let's talk about something else." I shuddered. "Did everyone get back okay?"

"Dwight and the others got back not too long after you went to bed. I slipped in the meeting halfway through; seems like Negan's got his ass covered in shit for a while." Daryl looked away briefly. "Sasha didn't make it, though."

"What?" I asked, disbelieving. "Dwight said... But… What happened?"

"Sasha had a plan of her own. Drove the van straight into the Sanctuary. They couldn't get her out."

I sat back, imaging what terrors Negan could be putting Sasha through right now, or if she was alive to know them at all.

"It worked, though," Daryl continued humbly. "She got nearly every single last fucker in there, but Maggie refused to attack. So that's 'bout as far as we got on Negan and whoever was supposed to get out didn't. Not yet."

"Damn." I couldn't believe it. I went to bed sick with worry not just for Daryl but for my friends out fighting a battle. Bad thoughts were always dark passengers in my mind, yet I relied on the hope that that was all they were – thoughts. "So, what do we do now?"

"We watch the Sanctuary. See how long they can last. There's some talk they're thinnin' out the herd which we expected, but the way they're doin' it is strange. It's got Dwight thinkin' they're up to somethin'. I think so, too."

"You know they are," I concurred.

"Until we know for sure, we ain't gonna do nothin' but watch. Dwight's guys are on it now, but it makes me uneasy. We gotta meet with the Kingdom and Somerset people to decide what to do next."

I paused a moment, unsure. "What should I do next?"

Daryl followed suit and hesitated, locking his eyes with mine. He was worried, I could tell, but resolute. He didn't want me out there.

"For now… We stay put until we know what to do next. There ain't gonna be no runnin' around looking for trouble. You're stayin' here until it's safe."

"I want to be there."

Daryl took on a look of confusion.

"When we take him," I clarified. "I want to be there when we take him; when we win. I have to be a part of it. I have as much of a right to face him as anyone else."

Daryl inhaled deeply and clasped my hands in his. He nodded slowly. "Alright… You'll be there, but out of the way and out of the fight."

"I will." I smiled and kissed him, but Negan's face sprung up at me. I jolted back.

Daryl looked concerned. "Everythin' alright?"

"Fine." I cleared my throat and started up from the bed. "Just need to shower and clear my head. Wait for me?"

At his nod, I turned for the bathroom as worry started to eat at me.

 _It was just a dream. I'll forget about it soon_ , I thought and stepped onto the cool tile of the bathroom, and I wasn't sure if it was the coldness that seeped through the soles of my feet that caused me to shiver or Negan hiding in my memories.

* * *

Dwight stood at the crest of the hill, the binoculars giving him an up-close view of the Sanctuary. The walkers rambled around the asphalt, trudging in dazed circles through Negan's front yard. A good bit of them had found their way outside of the fence and roamed the streets in droves. That meant the Saviors were keeping quiet inside; being discreet. It didn't look like any of them were risking their necks to kidnap a walker and drag them inside. Dwight had stood on this hill, watching the Sanctuary like a hawk for the better part of the day, but he had yet to see anyone go in or come out. That was either good or bad.

He lowered the binoculars and looked over his shoulder. "You sure Randy and Wade saw them taking walkers inside? It was dark when they were out here. Could be they saw the walkers voluntarily _going_ in."

"Man, they swear." Trevor shook his head and threw up an arm. "I don't know. That's what they told me, that's what they told you."

Dwight thought about their story and how sure they seemed of its truth. He mulled it over as he faced forward and looked through the binoculars once more. Besides the festival of the dead and Sasha's last mark of destruction, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. The bottom floor of the Sanctuary was boarded up and the outside stairs had been blocked off, preventing the dead from climbing the building and breaking in from up higher. Other than a massacre, this was something he might expect to see.

"Okay," he sighed and stepped back, blinking from the pressure of the binoculars. "Let's have Thomas and Vic keep a look out here. Randy and Wade can have tonight off. We'll switch until we can work something out with Alexandria and the Kingdom."

"The sooner, the better," Trevor sighed and Dwight agreed.

"Head back around sunset. Shouldn't be but a couple more hours." Dwight patted Trevor's arm. "Give those two the rundown. They radio me as soon as they see something – anything."

Trevor dipped his head. "I'll let 'em know."

Dwight hopped in the truck; his mind not racing like it had been several hours earlier. As he started the ignition and set it in drive, he let the heaviness in his chest sink in, no longer trying to push it out. It was as the tires hit the pavement that the tears fell and he blinked them away angrily. He knew it wasn't her fault. It wasn't anyone's fault, really; only Negan's. He was the reason for all this shit. He was the reason Sherry was trapped in there scared, alone, wondering…

"Dammit!" He yelled and hit the steering wheel. "Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!"

His knuckles smarted as blood filled in the crevasses of his skin. Dwight wiped it away on his jeans, but it only pooled back up again, a tiny trickle running down his hand. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and compartmentalized his grief. Right now, he needed to focus on what was most important and that was getting Sherry out alive and unharmed. He didn't care so much about Negan or what happened to him. There were a lot of things Dwight wanted to say and do to him, sure, but that could wait. And if all he did was wait until the day he died for personal retribution, well, so be it. He would have what he wanted most in the end.

By the time he got to Alexandria, his eyes were clear and he felt that same stony mask rearrange his features. He pulled to a stop by the makeshift gate a few soldiers had made and cut off the truck, swinging out barely a second after. King Ezekiel and his people were already present, filling up the town in what resembled a neighborhood barbeque. If only the horde a few miles south were here, it might actually be one.

"Dwight," Rick called his name. He stood with Maggie, the king, and a few others. "What's the news?"

Dwight joined the group. "Nothing. I didn't see a damn thing other than the biters still have the place covered. They're holed up in there; have pretty much every way in or out barricaded. Nothing went in and no one came out…"

"How many dawns will the usurper see before he takes his last breath?" King Ezekiel pondered aloud but with purpose. "If we continue to hinder ourselves, he may be a witness to more than the miracle of the living dead. He may yet live to see the Messiah. How long shall we wait him out before _we've_ had enough?"

The king looked to Rick whose white skin was covered in a film of sweat. The once robust and determined leader had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were beginning to sink in under the bone. Dwight had the random thought that a mere leaf landing on his shoulder could tip him over, but when Rick spoke, it was as though someone were speaking for him. That everlasting fire inside of him was still there and it shone through/burned in his voice.

"We won't wait long, that much I can promise you. But what we do next has to count as more than just a second strike – it's gotta be the last one." Rick paused, watching all the people who socialized and those who couldn't; their weapons close at hand and a nervous sliver of expectancy in their gaze. "We all had a lot of good ideas this mornin'. Once we got Negan or he's dead-"

"There won't be any gettin'," Maggie butted in with a glare. "He died the night he murdered my husband, and luckily for him I've already got 'im a marked grave."

"It's a shitting hole in the woods some vagabonds made use out of. I found it," Jesus clarified.

Tara sputtered out a laugh but quickly pressed her lips together and apologized.

"Whatever the case," Rick continued, "whenever we have Negan taken care of, we'll take on survivors and offer them immunity. We're not in this to send lambs to a slaughter; we just want our lives back the way they were. That's somethin' all of us need to remember."

"Well, if anything, whoever makes it out of that place in one piece could help us against Negan," Jesus said.

"How so?" Maggie asked, interested.

"I say we use our offer of immunity as a token for Negan's head." Jesus elaborated. "They help us get Negan – dead or alive – we won't kick their asses in. Seems like a fair trade."

"It won't be that easy." Dwight released a sarcastic scoff. "No one is just gonna waltz out of there ready to give up dirt. There are more enemies in that place than there are innocents, and there's no way in hell they'll let them out. And let's say per chance one of them does get out-" he shrugged "-they'll be dead before they reach that fence."

"So, what's your suggestion then?" Jesus crossed his arms with a raised brow. Dwight smirked.

"I'm not saying yours in bad, just that we need a backup in case that one doesn't work out."

"Precisely," King Ezekiel agreed. "Our actions need to be concrete. You can't roll the boulder before it is formed, can you?"

Tara scrunched her face as she considered the meaning of his comment, but Dwight understood the king's point.

"Basically what I'm sayin' is we blow shit up. We hit the lower east side of the building which will be opposite of where my men-" _and Sherry_ , he thought, "-will come out. We'll have attracted most of the walkers to that region by that point, making their getaway smoother and obliterating the dead masses while exposing Negan's vulnerabilities at the same time."

"And what about Sasha and Eugene?" Maggie walked up to stand in front of the half-scarred man. "What about them?"

"We waited, didn't we?" Dwight paused as he thought of his next words and how carefully he should phrase them. "Whether they're alive or dead doesn't matter at this point."

"Excuse me?" Tara's loud outburst broke his concentration briefly, but he was right back in it in a second.

"It doesn't matter." He looked pointedly at Tara and then back at Maggie. "They'll find their way out if they're alive. If they don't, then they don't. We can't hold everything in suspension because of someone else's shitty actions. Sasha knew our plan and she knew what she was doing."

The whip of Maggie's hand across his ruined cheek stung. His eyes closed automatically when he saw her swinging toward him, but he didn't move back and he didn't flinch. He let her express her opposition and choked back the anger it stirred in him.

"You won't be a part of this." She was teeming with rage, shaking with it. "I will put you in the ground before I let you kill anyone else I love!"

"Maggie," Jesus tried to soothe, reaching out to her.

"No!" She spun around, incredulous. "Have you guys already forgotten or are you all turning a blind eye? _He_ ," she jabbed a finger behind her in Dwight's face, "is just as responsible for all of this as Negan! He helped kill Glenn, Abraham! And then he kidnapped our friends, beat them, tortured them-"

"He's helped us get them back," Rick calmly cut in. "He's risked his life to get us this far. Dwight isn't our enemy right now, and if you have a problem with him, deal with it after we're done with this. Until then, use that fire for the person more deservin'. Not the one who's been helpin' us."

Maggie stared at Rick for a tense moment, clearly wanting to argue further but unable to find reason to. Her shoulders slumped as she stepped back from Dwight and her mouth formed a thin line. Rick waited a minute before he continued.

"This is hard. I know it is, but we're nearly through with this thing. They're surrounded right now. They aren't goin' anywhere any time soon. Not with who's at their front door. The only way they'll get out of there is with our help and if they accept, they'll live. If they don't…" Rick shrugged. "That's their choice. We do what's best for us," he looked at Maggie, "as a _group_. We're all in this together and we've got to end it that way."

"I agree," Jesus replied instantly. "We can't keep dragging this out. We either go in there and end it or wait for the Saviors to win a chance at getting us back. I say we don't give them that."

"We all speak truths. The matter is which one holds more weight. To end the war we must fight the battle," King Ezekiel said as he put a heavy hand on Maggie's shoulder who looked away. "To win the battle is to lose those we care about. It's a law of order as is the sun rising in the east. It cannot be helped. What we must cling to is courage; use it. It'll be our guiding sword when we find ourselves lost."

"Does everyone agree then?" Rick asked the group and he heard yeses all around except for one. "Maggie?"

Green eyes met blue, both strong but broken. She wanted to save Sasha and Eugene and she was starting to realize that maybe this would be her only way. "Yes."

"We need to act now." Dwight couldn't wait. He wanted to hit the Sanctuary as soon as possible. "Everything's geared up. All that's left is us following through."

"We understand," Rick said, "but let's get things in order before we rush in there. As much as you said you wanted to do this right, that won't be the way to go."

 _Goddammit_ , Dwight cursed mentally, but Rick was right.

"Fine." His reluctance was thinly veiled. "But if shit turns sideways, I'm going in full force with or without you."

He glanced at Maggie briefly who glared slightly in his direction before looking away.

"Hey!" Aaron suddenly yelled from the watch post. "We have some visitors…! Who are you?"

The group exchanged fearful glances before rushing to the gate. They heard a woman's voice, smooth and clear.

"We don't mean any harm," she announced. "I'm here to see Rick Grimes."

"Who are you?" Rick repeated as he and the others pushed past the vehicles blocking Alexandria's entrance. They stopped as Tara gasped.

"My name is Merrit," she said with an army of women both young and older at her back. "And we're here to help."

* * *

"You got any sevens?" Vic asked, analyzing the cards in his hands. Thomas smirked.

"Go fish, numb nuts."

"Dammit," Vic swore and begrudgingly took a card from the pile.

As Vic fiddle with his hand, Thomas looked at the factory below, scrutinizing the crowd. Biters still covered the place, both inside and outside of the gates. He didn't like seeing them there. The Sanctuary had been his home for nearly four seasons and there were people in there he liked, cared about even. He didn't much like Negan, not hardly at all, but watching the place that had given him shelter and a new life nearly destroyed was harder than he thought.

 _This is for the best, though_ , he told himself. _We aren't here to kill all of them. Just one._

That thought eased the ache in his chest a bit, and he looked back to his cards, adjusting his leg against the hard tailgate of the truck.

"Got any kings?" He inquired to Vic and his companion's face turned red as he yanked a card from his hand and threw it down.

"Eat shit, T."

Thomas laughed. "It's just a game, man. Chill." He looked at his cards, laying down his matching kings. "Hey, would you pass me a cola?"

He waited, organizing his cards before looking up. Vic was staring down at the Sanctuary, mouth agape and eyebrows so low that a flutter of anxiety went through Thomas. In a hurry, he gazed down at the factory grounds once more.

"What?" His voice was anxious.

"By the west side doors."

Thomas followed Vic's answer and saw what he meant. A small group of walkers were getting inside, trying to force their way in while being pushed back, but some were also…being dragged inside? He squinted, trying to see more clearly and no doubt looking just as dumb as Vic when he remembered the binoculars. He grabbed them from his side, magnifying his view as he jumped from the tailgate and took a few steps forward. His stomach dropped.

"Oh, shit."

"What's happening?" Vic asked as he came up behind him. "Give me the binoculars."

Vic reached out, trying to grab them away from Thomas' face, but Thomas elbowed him away.

"Radio Dwight now! Tell him that they are bringing in walkers, a bunch of them."

"For real? Shit!"

Thomas heard Vic scramble back to the truck as he continued to watch the Saviors corral the dead inside. This couldn't be good. It would be different if they were killing the horde small groups at a time, or just fighting through them, but they were actively trying to keep them alive in their struggle. Why?

"Vic!" Thomas yelled, growing impatient at the silence behind him. The walkie was in the bed of the truck right where they'd been sitting and while Vic had his moments, he knew how to use the damn thing.

Thomas lowered the binoculars and looked back. Vic wasn't anywhere in sight and neither was the walkie, but his second of confusion instantly turned to disbelief as he felt something impale his neck. He choked, sputtering up blood as it flooded his mouth and down his throat. The binoculars dropped to the soft grass with a thump as his hands went up. He felt the blade, his skin on fire where it had entered from the right back side of his neck and out through the front. As he tried to walk to the tailgate of the truck, he realized someone still held the other end of the knife. His watering eyes turned to the corners, blood coating his front as he struggled to breathe, and if he could've taken a breath, he would have screamed.

Who held the blade was not a person; hadn't been for some time. Who held the blade was not natural, something everyone still alive feared and hid from. Who held the blade was already dead.

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **Long time, no see. This past month has not been pleasant, and I'll spare you the gross details, but I've been in physical misery for the better half of it. Got some new meds though, so let's see how this cocktail works out. Finger crossed they work. With summer here, I'm hoping for more time to write. My new goal is to complete this story by early July. Fingers also crossed that I meet it. SIGH.**

 **Also, fuck if news about TWD isn't depressing. I won't say what's happening in case not everyone is up-to-date, but there's only one thing about the show that gives me hope and that's Norman Reedus. Maybe he'll finally get a romance? That might make me jealous, though, if I don't like the character. :X**

 **Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this one and it's not too shitty. Sorry it's short.**


	69. Chapter 69

**Chapter 69**

He watched them as they encapsulated the dead one by one, their crowns and abdomens glinting dull metal in place of flaking, corroding flesh. It hadn't taken long, turning the useless dead into something now more potent and stable, and they stood stout, chained, and ruinous in their new fashion.

Eugene felt a bit panicky, seeing his idea coming to fruition. The Saviors had taken it a step further by covering their walkers' shoulders and chests with the molten metal as well. At first it had been accidental, a misjudgment on how much should be poured, but the mistake had turned into intent as they began to cover each one thereafter in the same way, shrouding the new soldiers in immovable armor, chains melded into their ironclad skin. It wasn't what Eugene had envisioned and he was sure it would be a sore sight for his group to see when they, the Saviors and their new army, arrived. The odds could always be turned in their favor. Eugene just wished he could tell them how it could be.

But other than the plaguing thoughts of how this would all end, he wondered about Sasha the most; he hadn't been able to remove her from his mind except for fleeting moments where his attention was captured by his work. While occupied, trying not to step on anyone's sore toes as the Saviors were always ready to bite, he'd fretted about her mortality. She'd been a blaring horn -a blasting van radio- in his mind since they'd dragged her in unconscious after driving straight into the Sanctuary with a dead army at her back. If it hadn't had been for her, they wouldn't be in this mess, which is exactly what Eugene thought they all needed: a giant fuck-up of a mess to clean up and in which everyone had a chance to dig their fingers into; his mostly. But it had taken a wrong turn somewhere and he was partly to blame.

"Why're you just standing there, bum fuck?" The ill-tempered Savior bumped Eugene's shoulder with the forefront of his fingers. It was the blond man, young and tanned, Theodore.

"Supervising," he responded promptly.

Theodore coughed out a sneer. "More like being a load of wasted fucking space. You might've came up with the idea, but the least your fat ass could do is pitch in."

"I'm more useful watchin', thank you." Eugene turned away, walking the perimeter of the large area. The Savior didn't pursue, but he not so subtly cursed at Eugene's back as he watched him go. It didn't faze him. He was too focused on the effort around him. It was overly crowded with the dead. Pretty soon they were going to have to push them outside.

He came upon another man who was larger than he was, sweating as he paced side to side like a duck waddling in place and cautious eyes trained diligently on the mighty dead. Eugene eyed him for a moment and came to the conclusion that he wasn't much of a threat. It was possible that striking up a conversation with him might provide clues of Sasha's condition and whereabouts. He might even glean some vital information on what else Negan had in store for Eugene's group. With calculation, Eugene moved closer to the man's side until he felt the heat pulsing off of his humid skin and cleared his throat. Unfortunately, his call for attention went unheard, so he sucked in the courage and blew it out.

"Gullet."

The large man twitched, his anxious eyes finally breaking away from the monsters. "Huh?"

"The gullet." Eugene said, deadpan. "If you wanna kill 'em. It'll be the best way seein' as the critical parts are metalized."

"They all look like Satan fucked a robot and shit these out." They both looked out into the shining sea of groaning hybrids. "It's fucking terrifying."

Silence passed between the two of them before the larger man spoke again. "Do you think they feel it? Pain, I mean?"

Eugene considered the question and came to a prompt answer. "No. I don't think they feel much of anything except an urge. Much like a healthy pup's need to eat of its own droppin's, the dead act the same way. Us livin' folks just happen to be what's on the menu."

Joey squinted his eyes. "Are you saying we're piles of shit?"

"Oh…no." Eugene's words stumbled. "I was just equatin' the need of the deceased to consume human flesh to that of a canine who eats fecal matter. A well-fed dog doesn't gain a whole lot from it just like the dead seem to not gain anything from eatin' us. There's only an innate urge to do it."

"Huh… Well. I could agree with that." Joey said, turning back to the clinking army, their chains swaying. "If an apocalypse is any indication of what mankind is, it's shit. Not that we weren't before. It's just all I see now."

Eugene had half a mind to disagree, but decided better of it. He wanted the Savior to like him, help him. A debate on the ethics of mankind before and after a world-ending crisis wouldn't do this conversation any favors. Instead, he changed the course of conversation into something more pertinent.

"I can't speak much on that, but I do realize life's nothing but trips and falls and getting up is the hard part. Sometimes you land in a shitpile…," He cleared his throat, "sometimes not. But right now, I have a friend here who's ears deep in it." Eugene licked his dry lips. "Her name is Sasha."

Her name seemed to get the big Savior's attention and he began to fidget again, almost looking guilty.

"You happen to know her whereabouts? Her condition?" Eugene probed.

Joey's eyes skittered all over the room nervously, his fingers twitching against his thighs. He sucked in a breath. "I don't know who that is."

"Judgin' your reaction, it seems like you might…but I understand the consequence of infringed confidentiality. I was just wonderin' about my friend." Eugene let the last word trail off softly as he turned away and a second later the word he was hoping to hear hit his ears.

"Wait," Joey said and stepped up to him. "I do know where she is." He sighed, sweat still beading his distressed face. "She's in one of the cells and she's not in a good way. Negan had me-"

"There you are, Fat Joey!" The blond man who Eugene had run into moments before was back. "I've been looking all over for you, figuring you were hard at work, but what do I see? You flapping that meat trap to the rookie here."

"Uh, sorry, sir. We were just talking about-"

"About what?" Theodore snapped impatiently.

"Shit." Eugene answered. Theodore blinked slow baleful eyes at him.

"Say that again?" The Savior's tone was low and demanding. He inched a step toward Eugene who felt his heart rate pick up, but he stood his ground.

"Shit, sir." He nodded toward the chained dead. "They smell like shit."

Theodore tilted his head toward the snarling crowd then back. He let out a mocking snort and rolled steel gray eyes.

"The only shit I smell in here is the stench of your mingling breath." He shifted his attention between the two men, and then settled on Joey. "You need to get your fat ass in gear and do some damn work. Not gossip about prisoners. And you," Eugene was his target now, "you have no business talking to anyone right now about _anything_ other than what you were assigned to do. Maybe I should escort you both to Negan so he can go over exactly what the fuck your job description is here, boys."

Fat Joey shook his head fervently, his jowls jiggling like jello. "No, sir. I'll leave immediately, sir."

He strode away, his gait more of a blundering toddle than a stride, but his speed was impressive. Theodore cleared his throat and sighed as he looked down his nose at Eugene. Eugene peered back, keeping claim on the spot where he stood, not ready to move.

"Supervisor," the Alexandrian reminded the Savior, but Theodore's facial expression remained unconvinced.

"Negan," he retorted and held out his left hand in a "you first" gesture. Eugene felt he had no other option than to the advice being offered.

 _"Go first, or pay the price,"_ it seemed to say. _"I only give that offer once."_

"That's what I thought," Theodore gloated and walked directly behind Eugene's shoulder, providing terse verbal directions as they ventured to Negan's office.

Upon their arrival, they were stopped by two guards. Negan was currently in a meeting with his lieutenants and was not to be disturbed until it was over.

"Can't imagine it'll take much longer," one guard said. "They've been in there for over an hour."

"We'll wait." Theodore nodded and directed Eugene to stand against the opposite wall. "Don't move and keep your mouth shut."

Eugene did as he was told, but not without a grudge. If he'd been aware of Theodore's proximity during his conversation with Joey, he wouldn't have broached the subjects of Sasha's whereabouts. But as it were, he'd been too zealous and negligent, and now he wasn't just a secondhand observer of deep shit. He was fully in it.

The office doors opened and a trail of men exited with Negan at their heels. They looked tired, angry, and ready to shed blood.

"One fucking hour, if that. I want shit ready to fucking go." His noticed Theodore and then Eugene who slouched against the wall. "Well, what the fuck is this? Are my new G.I. Joes ready to go?"

"Just about, sir. We had a few more left to chain and case. Shouldn't take too long," Theodore responded promptly. Negan smiled.

"Fucking excellent." He stopped in front of Eugene, Lucille by his side, and patted him on the shoulder roughly. "My new Savior. My new _friend_ … I think when your old pals see who's clawing at their dangling fucking door, pee-pee pants city will surely turn into I-just-shit-my-goddamn-pants capital. I might even erect a statue of Prick and name him the founder. What do you think?"

Eugene began to tremble; not with fright or duress, but with choler. He wanted to say that the Alexandrians were the ones who were ready. They wanted to fight. And no matter what Negan dragged to their door, no matter how much of a fight Negan threw at them, the Alexandrians would give just as much back. They would be shocked about the walkers, no doubt, but they hadn't come this far to die from lack of resiliency and resourcefulness. They would find a way to survive. They always did.

"Actually, sir," Theodore spoke before Eugene had a chance to think of what to say, "I brought Eugene to you because I caught him asking about the girl. He wanted to know where she was."

Negan lifted his brows. "That so?"

Eugene swallowed and nodded. "Yes, sir. It is."

A short, low chuckle emanated from Negan and he rubbed his eyes with one hand. "Thank you, Theodore. You can head back downstairs now. Help get shit loaded the fuck up."

"Sir." Theodore's voice was weighed down with disappointment. He must've really been looking forward to witnessing Eugene's punishment, or carrying it out. He gave the Alexandrian once last scathing look before turning on his heel and stomping down the corridor.

When they were alone, Negan let out a weary sigh and threw back his head, rolling it as he stretched his neck.

"Jesus fucking Christ, this shit never fucking ends. I've had all but maybe five fucking hours of sleep the last damn few days. I think I'm starting to fucking hallucinate." Negan brought his head back to center and regarding the man before him. "Is what Theo says true? You wanna know about your old pal, Sasha?"

Eugene gave a silent yes.

"Let's go on a stroll." The Sanctuary leader pulled on Eugene's arm and they began to move. He swung Lucille up on his shoulder. "What exactly do you want to know?"

 _Shitpiles_ , Eugene thought. _Tread carefully._

"If she's still alive."

Negan shrugged. "Could be."

Eugene wasn't sure what else to say after that. That hadn't been much of an answer and its ambiguousness was enough to tell him that Negan rather not say more; whether it was because he didn't care or he wanted to play with him. Most likely, it was both. Eugene felt uncomfortable pressing for the truth, but he couldn't give up.

"If you don't mind me askin', how does this all end?" He asked, keeping his gaze straight ahead. "What outcome is the best possible scenario for you and your people?"

"Seriously?" A hint of humor was in Negan's voice. "Dr. Modern-Day-Frankenstein can't figure out what the fuck I want?"

"I am aware of your desire for destruction and vengeance. That is not lost on me, sir. What I find curious is how this will affect your resources and support; your bread and butter, so to speak." Eugene began to sweat a little. "Not to overstep my boundaries, sir, but can the Sanctuary sustain if you spend every ounce of power you have fightin' against Alexandria?"

Negan let the silence hang between them, the only sound being the rubber soles of their shoes treading through the halls as they walked. Eugene started to wonder if he'd made a mistake. If maybe he should've just begged for mercy and then kept his damn mouth shut. Then Negan spoke.

"What the fuck does this have to do with that bitch?"

"You can use her." Eugene licked his lips nervously; almost in excitement. "If she's alive and can be saved, her life will hold value in this war. Mine will as well, but with two guaranties you'll have a higher chance of prosperity."

"Eugene," Negan said, that hint of humor back in his voice, "do you honestly think that your life means anything to them? You can't be that fucking gullible… Sasha drove a van into my home. She led the dead here, to _us_ , so we'd be outnumbered, overrun, and cornered. She did not do that out of concern for you. _Rick_ did not send her to do that out of fucking concern for _you_." Negan stopped and grabbed Eugene's arm to look down at him. "Your lives do not guarantee me any-fucking-thing."

"Counterpoint: devastation to Alexandria gets you what you want. Perhaps you leave it as is and never rebuild it as a reminder. Perhaps you do. But what's left? Alexandria is one of the most fortified communities, government built with running water and electricity." He took a quick breath. "Pardon me if I'm speaking out of turn, sir, but it would be a waste. The way I see it, you need to regain control. What better way than to show mercy? Use what pawns you have rather than skippin' to the last resort."

Negan's mouth hardened as he gazed narrowly down at Eugene.

"Don't try to play me for a fucking fool. I will drench you in that fucking molten metal and string you up at the goddamn front."

"I'm not, sir," the shorter man responded hastily. "It is simply something to consider. Obviously, what you decide is indisputable."

The leader took a moment, glowering. Eugene did have a point. But what choice had Rick left him? That stubborn son-of-a-whore wasn't going to let up. No matter who was caught in the crossfire. However, having two Alexandrians alive and under his care did put him at an advantage. It was possible he could turn Rick's ruthlessness on him; show his people what he truly was, how much he truly cared for anyone. He could win this without even hardly trying. And if Sasha was past saving, he could use the illusion of her wellbeing as his token. Convincing Eugene would be the hard part. That meant he'd better get to work now if he was going to do this.

"Thank you, Eugene." Negan's face softened as he smiled. Eugene's tense shoulders slackened a bit, but they were still pushed high. "We'll get Sasha all patched up if she's still hangin' around. I'm sure Dr. Avery will find a special place for her to rest."

He'd make sure Dr. Avery would have a bed for her, alright. He'd pass him the key to Sasha's cell, and if she was still breathing, he'd take her to the infirmary. Not the one upstairs, no. The infirmary in the basement; the one where the infected also rested, waiting to die and be born again. If anything went south with the Alexandrians and that asshole Dwight, well, Dr. Avery would know what to do. Sasha would be his guaranty indeed.

* * *

Merrit's visit was a surprise; more so since she had the Oceanside women with her. Everyone's confidence had grown with their appearance. They'd had a strong army before. It had grown even stronger now.

King Ezekiel had taken to Merrit at once, and Dwight couldn't really blame him. The woman was stunning. She was unique in a noticeable way; like an ebony porcelain doll. Her skin glowed and she held herself with such dauntlessness and poise, it was hard not to be sucked in by her energy. King Ezekiel being such a self-possessed figure as well, they made quite the courageous pair. Seeing all of the groups band together lifted spirits and Dwight felt some of that faith high in himself. They could win this.

All of the leaders had gone over the final plan. They would travel to the Sanctuary, some by vehicles but most by foot. They wouldn't get too close; not yet, anyway. Sentries had been sent ahead to scout and radio back if something when awry. Once they were there, however, they would flank the Sanctuary borders and line up their sights. They'd use launched explosives, mostly the rocket launchers they were able to secure, but they had grenades as well among other artillery. This war wasn't going to be pretty, but it just might be an easy victory.

There was one hitch in this plan that Dwight had reluctantly agreed to. He hadn't wanted to, and neither had his men, but they were outvoted 3 to 1. Before attacking, Rick would radio to Negan, demanding his surrender. Immunity would be offered to those who surrendered peacefully, but if not, a war in which the Saviors couldn't win would be waged. Obviously, they knew Negan would not give in so easily. Yet, being completely surrounded and pinned in by the dead may be the game changer they needed.

"We about ready to head out?" Rick approached Dwight. Dwight nodded, breaking from his thoughts.

"Yeah," he said. "My men are all set; seems as if everyone else is to. I can practically taste the anticipation."

"You ever hear back from your men keepin' a look out?" Rick's face was still pale, but he looked more alert, focused, and worried.

"Nah," Dwight breathed out heavily through his nose. He could guess what might have happened and the dread in his stomach told him it probably wasn't anything good. "I've tried to reach them, but no answer."

"Then we should move now," Rick responded. "Our men haven't reported much in the way of Saviors or the dead between here and there. We'll go on while it's clear."

"Sounds good." Dwight glanced down at Rick's bandaged hands. "You'll be okay?"

"I'm fine," Rick said somewhat irritably. "I'm more concerned about seein' this through."

The former sheriff headed off and Dwight turned to his waiting men.

"Remember, we give Rick his chance, but if Negan isn't willing to hear us out or accept our conditions-"

"And we know he won't," Trevor interrupted petulantly.

"Then we go ahead with ours." Dwight finished and explained once more to make things clear. "We hit the east side as hard as we can; make the fucking foundation cave in. That'll take out a large portion of the herd but also kill most of Negan's men. Those who aren't a part of it will be on the west side, ready to escape. Trevor, you, Wade, and Dan know what to do."

 _Get my wife out_ , he thought fiercely. _I couldn't give a fuck about anyone else. Just get her out._

The commotion of engines roaring to life and doors slamming shut told him it was time. Dwight inhaled deeply, afraid for what was to come.

 _I've tried to reach them, but no answer._ He remembered his words from a few moments before about Vic and Thomas stationed by the Sanctuary. He radioed multiple times and all that had responded was silence.

"Let's go," Dwight said, choking down his fear.

* * *

His Saviors had already found them, watching the road and waiting. They'd hidden themselves well amongst the trees and brush, but his men had been better and taken them down without so much as a scuffle. That's what he liked to hear. It was like worrying yourself sick over an exam that began way easier than you'd thought.

"We managed to take them all out," his Savior informed him.

"That's fucking swell, Robby." Negan complimented, feeling triumphant already.

"There is one thing of importance, sir."

This caught Negan's immediate attention.

"His whole army is heading toward us and it's not just the Alexandrians. There're a lot of them."

Negan's brief moment of gratification came to a screeching halt and his mouth flattened. "How many?"

"A lot. I can't give an exact estimate, but it's more than we thought."

Negan ground his teeth together. He was pissed. They'd already left the Sanctuary just under an hour ago, pushing the chain-gang of the dead ahead of them. They were at the back, moving so slowly that Negan felt he might lose control and use Lucille on one of his men just to get the frustration out, but he'd kept his cool.

Simon, sensing his leaders change in mood, spoke. "Think we should wait 'em out? Let them come to us and ambush them?"

"No," Negan said, staring out of the windshield of the idling truck. "We don't have enough time. They'll know something's the fuck up when they see their scouts are missing. We'll keep moving forward and meet those fuckers half way."

"Alright then," Simon said with a smile. "You heard the man. Let's fucking rock and roll, fellas!"

The Saviors dispersed, going to the respectable vehicles as Simon started the truck again. The vibrations of the engine under Negan's feet was soothing and he closed his eyes, trying to breathe out his irritation. It helped somewhat, but Lucille was twitching in his hand and he knew the only way he'd truly feel better was through her. His hand landed hard on the knee of the Alexandrian beside him.

"You know something we don't, Eugene?"

"Uh, no," he choked. "No, sir. Not any more than you do."

Negan held up Lucille under Eugene's chin. "You sure about that?"

Eugene nodded his head, but Lucille was already in the air, and he let out a short, high pitched cry as she came rushing down.

* * *

"You stay in the damn truck, you hear me?"

I bobbed my head silently, watching the silhouetted trees crawl by against the twilit sky. Their branches were turning bare, dead leaves littering their feet. I watched all the people surrounding our truck as they walked alongside us and wondered if that's what we would all look like soon: dead bodies covering the road, crumbled and strewn about, but no. We wouldn't look like that. Dead leaves didn't come back to life and reattach themselves to a tree, rotting it. That was only us.

"And be ready to shoot," Tara continued to instruct me, her tone chastising. "And if shit gets really bad, drive the fuck away. Even if the Saviors don't kill me, Daryl will if anything happens to you. And another thing-"

"I've got it, Tara. I promise to do everything you've told me to. It'll be fine."

"We'll see. Plus, you owe me one; especially after Daryl wrings my neck."

I met her eye in the review mirror and we both smirked. I gave her a wink, but the banter died as I gazed out the window again, anxious. Would it be fine? Would I ever get the chance to pay Tara back for bringing me along against my other half's ardent wishes? I guess by the end of it, we would see, like Tara said. I just hated that it would take living through it to know.

I felt ashamed for betraying Daryl's trust. I told him I'd stay back and out of the fight when it came time, but I couldn't. Yet, he must know that it would have been impossible for me to remain in Alexandria. How much of a good listener was I really? Not a great one, I could wager that. It would have taken him tying me down to get me to stay and maybe not even then. It was too late now, though, to worry about what he would think. He would be mad, sure, but I'd already gotten this far; might as well save that fight for later.

"What the hell?" Tara spoke as she crept the truck to a stop. The crowd on foot had stopped too, whispering to each other, confused.

"What's going on?" Aaron asked from the passenger seat, sitting up straight. He and Tara exchanged nervous glances.

"Stay in the car." Tara's eyes met mine in the mirror again and I nodded, my mouth a firm line of worry.

Both she and Aaron exited the vehicle, the shutting click of their doors final. They mingled into the crowd as I gazed around, trying to decipher what could be happening. I wasn't great at reading lips and the murmurs were quiet, almost silent. It took all of my restraint not to open the door and get out. I bowed my head, raking back my hair and taking a deep breath as my anxiety began to grow. My knee bobbed. It was something to keep me distracted while I waited; waited for screams, shouts, gunfire, whatever. The thought made my ears prickle as my senses became more aware. I was actively searching for those sounds now; sounds of death and anger. When would it come?

I shot up, gulping in a deep breath of air and searching the sea of bodies before me, but they were the same; alive and wondering, like me. I started to feel sick; the feeling rising in my chest which had started to clench with a heavy weight. If we didn't start moving again, I might lose it before anything started. I wanted to find Daryl, but I dug sharp nails into my jeans, the shaking of my legs causing them to streak down the sides of my thighs.

What was happening?

The driver's side door abruptly opened and Tara quickly climbed inside, her hands on the wheel and driver's seat. Her eyes were round in panic.

"You need to go back. Now."

"What?" I asked.

"You need to get in this fucking seat and turn around."

The murmurs outside of the truck began to rise and I glanced around fervently as people began to back up.

"What is going on?" I said as I climbed over the console, but I was suddenly pushed into the passenger seat.

"Ah!" Tara yelped, her features twisted in pain.

"Hey!" I yelled and climbed over her, pushing against the driver door that was pinning her legs. The group outside was beginning to panic and in their panic they were shoving one another. I banged on the window. "Hey! You're hurting her!"

A Somerset man looked over his shoulder at me, sweat beading his firm face. "Let off!" He yelled and pushed against the crowd as others by him followed. The weight shifted and I was able to push the door open enough for Tara to get her legs in.

"Shit!" She gasped.

"Are you okay?" I asked, scared.

"Yes," she groaned, rubbing her legs. "That just hurt a fucking lot."

"What is happening Tara?" I asked again, hovering over her.

She looked up at me, heaving. "They're here."

I sat back and glanced out of the windshield. The soldiers were pitching back and forth, pushing forward and falling back. Why wasn't anyone fighting? Why weren't they all moving forward?

Tara must've noticed my confusion. "It's the horde. They're using the horde to attack first."

 _Shit._ A sudden burst of distant gunfire broke the air. An explosion.

"I've gotta find Daryl." I made a grab for the door handle, but Tara was faster. She pulled on my wrist.

"No! We turn back! That was the deal."

I yanked against her grip. "Fuck the deal! What's the point of running if they're just going to be at our door once they're done here?"

"We have to try to go back. Warn the others and move!" Tara tried to reason. She let go of me long enough to shift the truck into reverse. I saw the taillights paint the dense crowd red, saw it glowing in their eyes. There was no getting out of this. We were stuck.

"Move!" Tara yelled, honking the horn, but there wasn't anywhere for them to go. We were packed in, all of us. "Why the fuck aren't they getting out of the way?"

I opened the door, pushing against the soldiers near it, and bolted.

"Everly!"

"What's happening?" I grabbed their nearest soldier.

"We're being attacked! From the front and the back!" He yelled and moved away in a hurry, his weapon in his hands.

I gripped mine in the holster at my side, going through all of the motions in my head for using it. Unsnap, lift, point, aim, shoot. Unsap, lift, point, aim, shoot. Unsnap-

"Everly! What the fuck?" Tara practically screamed at me as she came up to my side. I turned away from her and surged through the masses; she followed after me.

"We have to help!" I called over my shoulder.

She didn't say much more as we rushed through the conflux. People were so packed it was like wading through shoulder-high water. The further we went, the less crowded it became, and the less crowded it became, the more I felt the panic in the air. I wasn't entirely sure of what I was about to run into, but I knew I wasn't ready to find Daryl dead. I ran faster.

"Everly, slow down!" Tara's voice grew faint as the gunshots grew louder. I heard the roaring of the dead and the grunts of the living. We were close.

I broke past the frontline and into the fight. There were walkers everywhere, both old and new. Our own soldiers fought against us, now perished and reanimated, and the walkers were chained together, forming a moving line that spanned the entire length of the road and part way into both shoulders. They had us trapped, netted in like a school of fish, and they pushed our living dead into us like an army of gilded juggernauts.

"Holy fuck," Tara breathed at my side.

"Tara! Everly!" Aaron and Rosita ran up to us. "Get back!"

They flanked our sides as we watched the fight. Soldiers behind and around us waited for an opening to run forward and attack. Some of them were lucky, catching a walker in the right spot or throwing a grenade into the middle of the herd, but the walkers kept pressing forward. Nothing was stopping them.

"Get ready to fight!" Aaron warned us and I drew my weapon.

 _Point._ I took in a breath. _Aim._ I held it. _Shoot._ I pulled the trigger and the bullet dinged off the metal head of a far away walker. I breathed out.

"Dammit."

"Keep going!" Rosita encouraged, shooting walkers left and right.

I did. I focused on the dead closest to us, shooting those who had been on our side at the start of it and now were part of the undead. I felt a loss as I killed them; each shot widening the chasm in my chest. But I kept on and reloaded when I needed to.

"Move back!" A soldier yelled and we did, keeping our distance.

I kept my gun up and used the short reprieve to scan the sea of determined faces for Daryl's, but I couldn't spot him. I saw Michonne wielding her katana, heard King Ezekiel shouting orders as his beloved Shiva roared, but everyone else was buried under the array.

 _He's fine_ , I thought. _He's a fighter, stronger than me. If anyone makes it out of this, it'll be him._

That put my heart at ease and gave me hope. I gazed at the advancement, the chains linking the dead together, bonding them. Where was Negan in all of this? This was clearly his master plan, so where was the master?

"Coward," I whispered to myself, glaring at the horde. I moved a few feet to the right to get a clear shot of the frontline. A grenade was thrown before I could fire and chunks of old and rotten human flesh flew through the air. I watched it rain down, half sick and half amazed. Guns weren't going to work in this fight. We needed more explosions.

I went to turn around to find Rick, Dwight, anyone to get more explosives to level this out when a sharp, burning pain surged in my right wrist and I dropped my gun with a yelp. Holding the appendage to my chest, I faced who had attacked me: a walker. I stumbled back, nearly tripping as what I wished fervently to not be real stood before me. I clutched my wrist in pain and complete denial.

It had bitten me.

* * *

 **Edited by Nightperidot.**

 **Bum, bum, BUUUUUM! Oh, what have I done? Nothing like coming back from a hiatus to royally piss all of you off. Okay, before I say anymore, I just want to apologize (as per usual) about my too long of an absence (as per usual) and to let you know that I'm on new medication that has finally seemed to balanced me out, so maybe my motivation and energy levels will be more balanced as well. As far as my physical health, I'm about 80% healed, so that's a plus as well. I am hoping to post weekly, or at least bi-weekly, from here on out. (I know, I know. You'll believe it when you see it, I know. I'm right there with ya.)**

 **Anyway, give the next chapter a chance before you curse me to hell and say 'screw this shit'. You'll probably still hate me, but maybe not as much? You'll see. JUST GIVE IT A CHANCE!**

 **Also, I love you all and thank you for being so patient. More thanks to everyone who reviewed. I was hoping this would be up much, MUCH sooner, but...Well, I'm glad to finally be back. :)**


End file.
